Bitter Pill
by Silverkelpie
Summary: Heyes and Curry meet a mysterious, but desperate, woman who seems to be running from something or someone. Can they unravel the secrets from the truth before she is killed? A mystery in one part inspired by a real Victorian murder trial.


Bitter Pill

The creaking, croaking coach seemed to protest at the early start as it skipped and bounced its way through the ghostly remains of the Tule fog while the occupants took the time to assess their fellow travelers.

The blond man stared at the barrel-chested man trying to sleep off the night before, his pink lips wobbling in tune with his light snoring as they protruded through his wiry black beard. With little more to engage his interest in the man his gaze quickly flicked back to the young woman sitting opposite.

Were they together? They certainly didn't seem to fit as a couple and he was too young to be her father. Uncle maybe, since she didn't wear a ring? Surely she wasn't travelling on her own in this part of the world?

She looked to be in her early twenties, with light-brown hair framing a heart-shaped face and a pair of the brightest blue eyes he had ever seen, staring fixedly out of the window at nothing in particular.

He smiled broadly as she glanced over to him, her instincts alerting her to the fact that she was being observed.

"Cold mornin", ma'am," the Kid spoke warmly as he decided that it was time to get to know her better. After all, they had been in this coach for nearly an hour now and there had been little in the way of conversation.

"Yes," she replied uncertainly as she darted a quick look at his dark haired companion.

Heyes threw her his most dazzling smile, the one he reserved for the moments where he decided to be charming as she dropped her eyes coyly and glanced at her hands. She returned their friendliness with a weak smile.

"Aaw, she's shy...," thought the Kid, as he found her reaction charming. "Let's find out a bit more."

"Aaw, she's shy...," thought Heyes, as he mentally traded off potential effort against any feasible payoff before deciding he didn't have enough information. "Let's find out a bit more."

Her long fingers played aimlessly with the fabric of her dowdy, cheap dress until the Kid spoke again.

"How far you goin'? Gettin' off at Deadridge?"

"I'm going to meet family there," she replied with a slight nod. "You?"

"San Francisco. We got some work there."

Her eyebrows arched upwards and she bit her bottom lip unsure how to break the awkwardness before Heyes spoke.

"You two travelling together, ma'am?"

She looked slightly shocked at the inference that she would choose a hirsute, rotund, whiskey fuelled lummox as a partner and shook her head rapidly in denial. "I've never seen him before in my life."

"So, you're travelling alone, ma'am. Is that wise?" asked Heyes.

A flicker of intriguing spirit flashed in her eyes before she retorted. "So? Do you think that I should just stay put until I find a travelling companion, Mr...?"

"Smith. Joshua Smith," Heyes eyes twinkled at her. "And no. I don't...it's just that many women wouldn't choose to travel by coach on their own this far west."

Keen, intelligent eyes looked directly into his. "Many other women have no choice, Mr. Smith."

"I'm Thaddeus Jones," the Kid smiled at her challenge to Heyes, "and you are?"

"Mary. Mary Perfett."

"Well, it's real nice to meet you Miss Per..."

His words were cut off by the sound of gunfire ripping suddenly through the coach. The stage took off at high speed, jerking the passengers from their seats as the coachman yelled a warning.

"Hang on folks! Looks like a holdup. We're gonna try and outrun 'em."

The sweating horses panted against their load as the whip cracked over their heads. Frenzied, foaming breaths throbbed and strained against their heaving harnesses.

"What's goin' on?" slurred the huge man as he was rudely shaken from his sleep.

"A hold up!" yelled the Kid, bracing himself against the battering ride as he threw a look of concern at the young woman whose eyes darted around in genuine terror.

Percussive hooves repeatedly pounded the earth in a relentless race as the vehicle they pulled was jolted and buffeted in their wake.

"Ain't no one gonna hurt you. They're after the mail, not the passengers," yelled the Kid to Mary as they rattled helplessly around inside.

Her knuckles whitened as she gripped the seat while the wheels suddenly battered and crashed against some rocks with a sickening crack.

Suddenly, the wheels broke away and the bottom of the coach dropped with a jolt, quivering and bouncing to a jarring halt as it ploughed through the earth until it was jammed unceremoniously against an enormous divot of dragged up earth. It teetered precariously for what felt like minutes before it suddenly lurched onto its side, tumbling the people inside into a jumbled heap.

The Kid looked down at Mary amid the tangle of limbs inside the lopsided carriage, quickly deciding that she was uninjured before turning his attention to Heyes. He was fine. The soft beer belly of the bearded man had served as an ample cushion against the crash as they all landed in an undignified pile on the bottom of the tipped vehicle.

They heard the sound of pounding hooves approaching before the door was unceremoniously yanked open above them.

"There's four of 'em boss... and one of 'em is real pretty."

The Kid thrust his head out from under Heyes' arm and smiled cheekily at the gunmen. "Aw shucks. Thanks, boys, but the girl ain't bad either. Now, how about a hand? We're kinda stuck down here."

oooOOOooo

The men stood lined up outside the coach, relieved of their weapons as Mary crouched beside the injured coachman assessing his injuries.

"Hey, Boss, look at these."

The squat raider who had been rifling through the luggage held up an enormous pair of frilly bloomers. They were so large that they reached up to his armpits and were about twice as wide as him.

"Put them away, Hank. That ain't what we came for and there's no need to embarrass the lady." said the tall, dark, tanned man with the aquiline nose who was obviously in charge.

Mary blushed as she cried out indignantly. "They're not mine. I would never wear anything like that!"

"They're mine."

All eyes turned to the huge burly man who had just spoken, his beard fluttering in the breeze as the air filled with questions and unspoken possibilities.

"Really?" the swarthy outlaw who seemed to be charge raised his eyebrows in wry suspicion.

"I'm a commercial traveler. They're samples," he stammered. "I've been on the road for years and been robbed more times than I can count. All I got is a few dollars and a cheap tin watch and you're welcome to them. I don't want no trouble boys."

"Neither do we," added Heyes with a conciliatory smile. "Just take what you came for and leave us in peace. We got a job to get to."

"And we got a job to do here," replied the tall, brown-skinned man. "Just do as you're told and we'll be out of here before you know it. Now, empty your pockets"

They reluctantly complied as Kid muttered under his breath.

"Got somethin' to say?" demanded the outlaw.

"Sure I got somethin' to say," the Kid barked. "I got three dollars and sixty five cents and I got to get to San Francisco before I get work. How am I supposed to get there?"

"Ain't my problem, friend. Hand it over," the robber's shrewd, brown eyes assessed the prowess of the man in front of him before quickly deciding that his lack of fear was far from the norm.

"Here," the Kid snapped, reluctantly thrusting his life's savings into the man's hand knowing that their desperately needed funds would last about ten minutes before being frittered away in a local brothel.

The gunman gave the Kid a wary look. "Hank... Watch this one. What else they got?"

The gnarled, squat robber rummaged through the passengers' possessions before he forced open the lock of a huge trunk with his knife.

"Books. Dozens and dozens of books," he announced.

Mary raised her head from bandaging the coachman's arm. "Leave those alone. They're mine. They're no use to you and they're not valuable to anyone but me."

"Books?" demanded the robber.

"Yes. I'm a schoolteacher. Leave them alone."

"A schoolmarm," the smallest of the group scuttled over and stood in front of her, simmering with the stereotypical aggression augured by his ginger hair. "I hated my teacher at school."

Mary's eyes widened as Heyes stepped forward putting a gently restraining hand on the Kid's chest.

"I take it that you're in charge here," he said calmly, addressing the gang leader with a determined glint in his eye. "Allowing your men to frighten women isn't the way to make this easy. Men are likely to take that bad... real bad, and I'm sure that you want this to be as easy as I do."

The outlaw nodded and gave a small smile of agreement as he looked deeply into eyes as dark as his own.

"Joe, enough of that. You had little enough interest in books when you had the chance, there ain't no place for it now."

"I got me an interest in schoolmarms though, Jose. Especially when they look like her."

"Yeah? Well save that for your own time. Grab those mail bags. Let's get out of here."

"What about my gun," yelled the Kid, indignantly.

Jose turned as he put a foot in the stirrup. "It's real nice, friend. Much better than mine. I gotta thank you."

The Kid muttered bitterly under his breath as he watched the gang mount up before they galloped off with laughter ringing out behind them.

"They got my gun Joshua. They got my money and they got my gun. I ain't lettin' this be."

"Just let it go," Heyes hissed at him. "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves. We need to act just like any other passengers who got robbed."

"Yeah?" retorted the Kid as his jaw set determinedly. "That gun's taken me years to get just right. How many people are gonna just sit back and let somethin' that valuable to them be stolen without makin' an effort to get it back."

"You can get another gun."

"Can I? What with?" the Kid raised questioning eyebrows at his partner. "I'm goin' to take one of the horses and I'm gettin' it back. You with me or are you stayin' here?"

The Kid stared into the angry eyes of his partner.

"Call it sentimental value! I'm goin'."

Heyes gave a sigh of resignation. There would be no stopping the Kid when he was as angry as this. He headed over towards the horses standing beside the broken traces of the coach. "Come on. We might as well get this over with."

oooOOOooo

They figured that the gang would travel no more than about a mile before they stopped, as most thieves would gallop a horse as far as they could without exhausting it before assessing their haul, leaving enough horsepower to get away if surprised. If they kept to a more sedate pace it would be fairly easy to take them by surprise.

There were only four of them after all and they had missed the coachman's handgun and rifle in the well of the driver's seat of the capsized coach.

Easy, just too easy, for Hannibal Heyes and Kid Curry; these amateurs had no idea who or what they were dealing with.

The partners caught sight of them in copse of trees. They approached cautiously before they swung into their well rehearsed strategy. The group was crouched over the mailbag, raking through the contents like vultures picking at a carcass, completely ignorant of the impending ambush

"Hands up, gentlemen. Keep them where I can see them and no sudden moves."

Four pairs of eyes swiveled in Heyes' direction as the leader's hand dropped down to his weapon but stopped abruptly at the metallic sound of the rifle cocking behind him.

"He said, hands where he could see them, boys," rumbled the Kid from behind them. "I'd do it if I were you. The options don't look too good if you don't."

Heyes strode into the clearing with the coachman's handgun in his raised hand. "Now, reach down, real careful, and toss your weapons over here. All of them!"

The guns clattered on the hard ground in front of them before the Kid cautiously came forward and gathered them up.

"You lawmen?" queried the tall Hispanic man. His voice carried the tiniest trace of an accent now that he was caught off guard.

"Nope," replied Heyes. "Just outraged citizens. You. Yeah, you with the whiskers. Get all that mail together. Put it back in the sack and I want everything you took from the passengers back. NOW!"

The ginger thief bustled about, grabbing up hands full of mail and thrusting them back in the mailbag as the Kid threw his leader an icy smile.

"Where's my gun?" he demanded.

The outlaw gestured towards his saddlebag with his glossy black head. "I thought that was just too good a piece of hardware to be in the hands of a drifter. You sure you ain't the law."

The Kid grinned from ear to ear as he cocked his head to the side. "Would a lawman rob you? Empty your pockets... all of you. I want your watches, cash... anythin' of value. Now!"

"What the hell are you doing?" hissed Heyes.

"Teachin' these guys that it's one thing to steal from the stagecoach lines, the railroads or the banks but that it's somethin' else entirely to take from poor folks."

"Are you kiddin'?" an astonished outlaw gasped through a glob of chewing tobacco.

"Do I look like I'm kiddin'?" the Kid's eyes glistened menacingly before he took off his hat and held it out to gather the takings. "In the hat. Now!" The gang began to rifle through their pockets, tossing in notes and coins before the Kid stopped in front of the leader. "All of it!.

"You can't take this. It's our own money."

"File a report with the sheriff," snorted the Kid. "That all of it?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think so," he retorted, looking down at the watch chain on the leader's waistcoat. "The watch."

"That was my father's!" barked the leader. "It's all I got of him since he died."

Cynical blue eyes examined him as the Kid raised the barrel of his handgun. "Yeah, sure' My heart's breakin'. Drop it in the hat."

The man dangled the trinket reluctantly over the hat before letting go of the chain. Heyes stepped over and picked it up.

"Your father's name Margaret?" he snapped, examining the engraving on the back. The Kid shook his head in admonishment , clicking his tongue disapprovingly as he gave the man a wry smile. "Ohhhh, a thief and a liar? What next? You got any candy you stole from babies?"

"Go to hell!"

"I got no doubt I'm headed that way my friend, just like you are, but by the time you get there your feet are gonna be real sore. Boots off. All of you."

"What? Why?" gasped the youngest through his wispy adolescent beard.

"Because we're taking your guns, horses and loot. You can take your chances with the posse but I'm guessing you won't get too far before they catch up." twinkled Heyes.

oooOOOooo

"You surely don't intend to keep any of their money Kid, do you?"

They had remounted and were on their way back to the overturned coach, the Kid feeling that his injured pride was slightly salved. He turned burning eyes on his partner. "Nope. It's all gettin' handed over to the law, except for my three dollars and sixty five cents, hopefully whoever Margaret gave that watch to will get it back. I'm sure that it was a real special occasion for them both. My pa loved the watch his folks gave him."

Heyes grinned. "That guy got right under your skin. Why'd it bother you so much? We've been held up before and I'm sure that we will be again."

The Kid shrugged. "He took my gun. That's all I got between me and the kind of bottom-feeders that took our folks. All of a sudden I felt like I was right back there," he paused and fixed the horizon with an enigmatic gaze before his voice dropped to a whisper. "He shouldn't have taken my gun Heyes. Things like that'll bring out the shadows even on the sunniest days."

oooOOOooo

The remains of the stagecoach came into view as they rounded the next bend, the driver sitting on an upturned trunk with his arm in sling while the bearded commercial traveler paced up and down looking for the search party he hoped would be heading out to investigate the failure of the stagecoach to arrive at its next destination. His mouth gaped in amazement at the sight of the two men and the mailbag strapped to the saddle of one of the horses they led behind them.

"I never thought I'd see you two fools alive again!" exclaimed the coachman. "You got them? You got the mail back too?"

Heyes grinned at him. "Sure did. No sign of a posse yet?"

"Nope. Shouldn't be too long now though. We were due into Deadridge about a half an hour ago. They'll be on their way."

"Where are they?" demanded the bearded man. "I hope you ain't gonna bring a gang of angry thieves down on us when we're stuck here like sittin' ducks."

"Relax, they ain't getting too far without boots or horses," chuckled the Kid. "We can wait it out or use these horses to get to town. You well enough to ride Driver?"

"Nope. Arm's busted. The lady fixed it up real good and gave me somethin' for the pain... But I ain't too keen on tryin' to climb on a horse. I'll wait for help to get here."

The Kid frowned and glanced around. "Where is she?"

"The little lady took one of the horses and headed off. Don't think she was too keen to wait," the bearded man replied.

"What!" the Kid said in disbelief. "You let her head off on her own to town?"

"She didn't head to town," muttered the driver. "Headed off that way, across country, even though I told her what way to go. Women, they got no sense of direction."

"Why the hell did you let her?" demanded the Kid.

"How was I supposed to stop her?" the large man's color began to rise underneath his facial hair. "I ain't her keeper. Never met her before in my life!"

Heyes shook his head and gazed out in the direction indicated by the coachman. "What's out there. Where's she headed?"

"Nothin... not for miles."

The Kid's gave a shrug of annoyance. "Why the hell would she do a damn fool thing like that?"

"Dunno? I told her that the law would soon be here... all she had to do was wait, but she weren't for listenin'."

Heyes and Curry exchanged a look before Heyes strode over to her trunk and pulled open the lid. He slowly turned the leather bound books in his hands before opening them. "Thaddeus."

"Yeah?"

"Come and see this."

The Kid strode over and looked down at the jumble spilling out from the trunk as Heyes rifled through the contents.

"You remember the books we read at school?"

The Kid looked slightly sheepish before he replied quietly. "Some."

"I remember them all," Heyes murmured, opening a book and looking at the inscription on the marbled first page.

"Well you would, Joshua."

"What did she say her name was?"

"Mary Perfett." the Kid replied and frowned as he read the inscription. "Maura...?"

"Yup," Heyes opened another, then another comparing all the inscriptions in their beautiful copperplate handwriting. "They all seem to have been either presented to or been a gift to a Maura O'Shaughnessy."

"Maybe she bought them second hand as a job lot?"

"I doubt it, Thaddeus. At least four of these are only recently published and these ain't schoolbooks. They're all scientific papers, treatises and reference books. Quite advanced. This ain't casual reading or a school teacher's set work."

He pulled back some fabric and revealed bottles, copper tubes and jars.

"Ha!" laughed the Kid uncertainly. "She makes moonshine? Surely not."

"No, I don't think she does. This looks like scientific equipment and these books back that up. I got no idea who this little lady really is, but she isn't a small time schoolmarm and she sure didn't want to wait around for the law."

A mischievous smile spread over the Kid's face.

"She's on the run," he leaned over and ran the fine silk of one of the dresses through his fingers. "And I'm guessin' that she doesn't usually run to the homespun look she was wearin' today."

Blue eyes met brown, the decision already made before the Kid spoke again.

"So, I guess we go find her. She's unarmed and headin' out to who knows where on her own. Dammed fool. She sure knows how to draw attention to herself. She'll have half the men in Deadridge out lookin' for the poor, little, lost school teacher."

oooOOOooo

Maura's jiggling hands clutched at the reins while perched precariously on the animal's back, her little pink tongue protruding through her lips in her intense concentration. She was a city girl, far from an accomplished horsewoman and riding bareback was much harder than she thought it would be.

The horse seemed to pick up on the tiniest of cues, even unintentional ones. Her fretting toes seemed to urge the beast to go faster than she felt able to cope with until she found through trial and error that it was better to keep her feet flexed.

As she covered mile after mile her lower back ached, her backside throbbed and her muscles started to burn but the horse seemed to sense that she had started to calm down and became less skittish, leaving her mind free to dwell on the blind, unthinking panic which had driven her to this desperate journey. The law would question her as a witness to the robbery and her inexperience with the legal process made her unsure just how deeply they would dig into her identity and whether or not they were actively looking for her. She was honest to the point of naivety and her expressive face made her a dreadful liar so she knew that she could not withstand rigorous questioning.

Besides, previous contact with the authorities had almost cost her life and she simply couldn't risk even the most tenuous connection. Experience had taught her that it was simply too dangerous to have any dealings with lawmen under any circumstances.

It hurt to leave her precious belongings behind but she had money salted away and skills enough to rebuild her life under a new name. She swallowed down her angst and looked ahead towards the horizon and wondered, for the first time since her frenzied fear had started to recede, where exactly she was headed.

She had no idea how long she had been riding but the sun was high in the sky by the time she found her attention drawn to a noise in the distance behind her.

Her heart leapt into her mouth as she saw that two horses were galloping purposefully towards her and appeared to be gaining ground fast.

"Oh my, no," she muttered through bated breath and kicked her heels kicked into the horseflesh beneath her.

The animal took off... much faster than she expected and certainly much quicker than she could cope with. Long, white fingers clutched at the horse's mane as she desperately struggled to keep her seat; the constant, thudding pulse on the damp earth pounded in her ears, echoing her thumping heart.

Her panic began to spiral as her gulping breath formed lump of anxiety in her chest. Spinning round she could see that the riders were gaining on her fast and that the man in the dark hat was ahead of the other pursuer and seemed to be coming up on her left hand side.

"NO!" she cried out, involuntarily. Battering hooves got louder and louder and an outstretched arm crept into her peripheral vision.

Her attention diverted from staying upright, she started to swing until she suddenly pitched sideways, landing on the cold, wet ground with a sickening thud as pain exploded from her shoulder before radiating across her chest and back until everything went numb and black.

"Oh, God, Thaddeus!" she heard a male voice yell as another set of hooves came towards her as she started to come back to her senses. She felt hands gather her up as a spasm of agony erupted in her injured shoulder. Pain mingled with terror as her good hand shot out and clawed out at the blue eyes hovering above her.

"Dear God, woman! What the hell are you doin'?" the Kid yelled as her nails found their mark, before her wrist was roughly grasped in an iron fist. He tightened his grip on her but stopped when she responded with agonized screams. She gulped in air and tried to look at her pursuers through a filter of tears. Her worst fears were realized. It was the men from the coach. She had been followed after all.

"Her shoulder," gasped the dark one. "Look at the shape. She's badly hurt."

"Does it matter?" she muttered weakly.

The two men exchanged a look of concern. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Just do it. Get it over with!"

"Do what?" demanded Heyes.

""You came to kill me. I've had enough! Just do it!"

She heard both men suck in a breath before a curious pair of soft, brown eyes looked deeply into her's as Heyes crouched down in front of her. "We came to find you, that's all. We came back to the coach and found you'd headed off across country on your own. We were worried about you."

Heyes saw her eyes swirl with confusion as he continued. "Now... why don't you tell me why you think we're going to kill you?"

She shook her head and stayed resolutely silent. Heyes narrowed his eyes, this wasn't the time to press her.

"Joshua, we gotta do somethin' about that shoulder," murmured an urgent voice at her ear before her eyes darted up to the man holding her. There was genuine concern in the blue eyes that looked at his partner. Had she misread these men?

"Let me see that," Heyes reached out and gingerly pushed back the lapel of her jacket. "It's too hard to see in that baggy dress but it doesn't look like a good shape. The way the arm's hanging just isn't natural. Can you move it?"

"Let me see," she muttered, struggling out of the arms that held her as she tried to sit upright. Her left hand explored her upper right arm before tentatively running over the distended socket.

She leant back into the strong arms with a groan. "I think it's dislocated."

"Well," Heyes said with an encouraging smile. "We'll take you back as gentle as we can. We'll get you to a doctor."

"No!" she exclaimed. "You have to put it back in."

The Kid gave a snort. "I don't know nuthin' about that but I ain't bein' responsible for wagglin; an injured arm around. It'll wait!"

Her left hand gripped his in desperation as her eyes darted from one to the other. "You have to. Please! I'll tell you what to do. I can't ride like this."

"She's got a point, Joshua. She couldn't ride before she got hurt. This ain't gonna help matters."

"You know what to do?" Heyes queried.

"Yes. Now, please. Help me?"

"What d'we have to do." asked the Kid reluctantly.

"Get a blanket..," she waited until Heyes unrolled his bedroll.

"Lay me down on it and wrap it around me so that you can use it pull my upper body towards you," she looked at the Kid on her other side. "now...bend my elbow so it's at right angles to my forearm... grip at the wrist and upper arm," she stopped, gasping in pain as the Kid searched her face for any excuse to stop this right now.

Composing herself, she flexed the muscles in her jaw before she spoke through clenched teeth.

"Now you pull the arm outwards gently while the other pulls me in the opposite direction using the blanket. That should relieve the pressure enough to manipulate the bones into place."

She closed her glittering, blue eyes as she sucked in her bottom lip. "Now!"

The Kid's stomach lurched at the feeling of the movement of bone on bone beneath his sensitive fingers as he and Heyes pulled as evenly as possible before there was an audible pop and a normal shoulder took shape again. A piercing scream rang through the trees as a flock of panicked birds scattered from the trees above, dotting the overcast sky.

"Well, one way or another, we done somethin'," murmured the Kid as he stoked Maura's pale sweat-coated forehead. "Heaven only knows what though."

oooOOOooo

Maura sat quietly, propped up against a tree with her arm in a makeshift sling fashioned from one of Heyes' shirts and watched as the men made camp, lit a fire and began to brew a pot of coffee.

The tall, dark man strode over to her and proffered a bottle of whiskey. "Drink some. It'll numb the pain."

She gave him a weak smile of thanks. She hated whiskey but she knew that he was right. It would take the edge off and she might even get a little sleep, after all she knew they weren't going to even try to take her out of here until the morning. She drank... and drank... and then drank some more.

She tipped her head back and swallowed deeply, grimacing as the pungent liquid burned all the way down before the burning turned to a smoldering warmth, spreading from her stomach and circulating until it engulfed her senses.

She might still hurt as much. She just didn't care.

The two men sat by the side of the fire, talking in hushed tones while they drank coffee. Every now and again they would glance over at her until the blond man stood up and walked over to her.

He looked into her swirling eyes with amusement playing over his lips before he leaned over and took the bottle from her. "I think you've had enough. Don't want you fallin' over and makin' that arm worse. Do we?"

"What would you care?" she retorted.

The Kid's brow creased. "There you go again. Why would you think that we're goin' to hurt you or anyone else?"

Her lips shut firmly as she glared at him.

"Not gonna talk?" he laughed. "Look, we got back to the coach and found out that you'd taken off across country, alone unarmed and headin' out to who knows where. We'd have been even more worried if we'd known just how bad a horsewoman you are. You're lucky we found you at all. You could be lyin' under a bush somewhere."

"I wouldn't! I'm not that bad!"

"No?" laughed the Kid. "My pa took me to the circus once. I saw a real pretty monkey in a pink, glittery dress ridin' round on the back of a horse. Poor thing looked terrified' it was hangin' on like it's life depended on it."

"Are you saying I look like a monkey!?" she demanded indignantly.

"Nope. I'm sayin' that you ride worse than one," grinned the Kid tugging on the sleeve of her baggy, grey-green dress. "Dress uglier than one too!"

"Miss Perfett," Heyes began before a smile lit up his face. "Or do you prefer Miss O'Shaughnessy?"

Her eyebrows darted upwards as she glared at him. "So! You are following me. You do know who I am."

Heyes gave her an inscrutable smile. "I can read. It's written all over those books of yours. Now, why do you think we're trying to kill you?"

He watched as she glanced away and stared resolutely out into the middle distance, refusing to look at him.

"Well, let's start with an easier question. Why were you travelling incognito? We've seen the dresses in your trunk. Most women wouldn't choose to wear that when they've got expensive silks in their bags."

She grasped her injured arm at the elbow, the nearest she could get to a flouncing arm fold.

"Who's after you?" Heyes persisted. "The law?"

The Kid flicked a look at him before he joined the questioning. "What'd you do? You steal something?"

A look of distaste crept over her face but the question provoked a reaction at last.

"I've never taken anything that didn't belong to me in my life," she snorted.

"It had to be big to make you run for it the way you did." the Kid replied. "It's like you're terrified. Did you hurt someone? An accident maybe? If that's the case you should face the music and sort things out. This ain't the way to deal with things."

"I've never hurt anyone in my life. Quite the opposite."

The Kid glowered at her, his fingers brushing over the scratches she had left on his face. "What's this then? A mirage?"

She shook her head in denial. "I thought you were a killer. I was defending myself."

"Yeah? Good job! I hope you put as much effort into becomin' a criminal mastermind, 'cos you've been pretty dumb up till now."

"What do you mean by that?" she demanded petulantly.

"You travel with evidence that you got a false identity, you fly into an obvious panic at the first mention of the law and you rode that horse like a grizzly with sore feet! Just how desperate do you have to be to take to the hills with the skills you got?"

She pursed her lips and turned her head away.

"You sure know a lot about how to fix a bad shoulder. Are you a doctor?" asked Heyes.

"No. I'm not a doctor, stop asking stupid questions," she snorted dismissively.

"It's not a stupid question. There are women doctors. Not many, but some."

"Well I'm not one of them and you know it'"

Heyes nodded slowly as a knowing smile played over his lips.

"Interesting. Why would you think I'd know that? You clearly think that someone's hunting for you." He smiled reassuringly. "If they are, it's not us. You've got the wrong men. We came after you because you were riding blindly out into the middle of nowhere. Who's after you? The law? An angry husband, perhaps?

Maura's eyes widened guiltily. This was exactly the kind of questioning she had been dreading. She resorted to her fallback position and refused to talk at all.

Heyes and Curry shared a look of recognition at the culpability written all over her face.

"This was stupid," the Kid shook his head ruefully at her. "The sheriff would have only asked you a few questions before he let you carry on with your journey. Now you might as well arrive back in town with a marching band carrying a sign that says "look at me sheriff!". Now he's gonna wonder why you panicked and ran off, just like we did. He'll probably come to the same conclusion too."

"Are you wanted?" asked Heyes tentatively, almost not wanting to know the answer.

She answered him with a wordless, hostile stare.

"Whatever it is, it ain't trivial, eh?" Kid continued to probe. "No one acts like this over a few months inside."

Heyes started to fish, his curiosity roused. "So you didn't steal. A nurse who gave the wrong medication perhaps?" he shook his head quickly dismissing it. "Nope. Those weren't nursing books. Those were scientific books. You a scientist?"

"Leave me alone!"

Heyes shrugged. "Please yourself, but you should know that we're taking you back to town. No doubt the sheriff's got your real name from your baggage by now."

Her blue eyes glittered with emotion. "Why? Why would you do that? Why can't you just leave me here?"

"Because the Governor of Wyoming knew we were on that coach, in fact he paid for our tickets. We're doing a job for a friend of his. We can't have the sheriff report back that we helped you get away and no one would believe that you outran us."

"Please, don't. I'm begging you."

"Then give us a good reason why we shouldn't?" demanded the Kid. "We can't be seen to be helpin' a fugitive."

"Because," she hesitated, her words carrying a powerful amount of pain . "If you really are just men who came looking for me you'll be condemning me to death."

"At lot of people would find this hard to believe Miss O'Shaughnessy but we really need to make sure that you face due process." Heyes replied simply. "If you're not wanted you have nothing to fear."

"Even if I'm prepared to beg?"

Dark eyes glittered at her. "It's worth a try, I suppose, but I don't rate your chances of success ."

"What if I was to offer you something?"

"Oh... money can't buy what we need and anything else, well; tempting.. real tempting. But no."

"I'm offering you nothing but money. Please, I don't deserve any of this. If you take me back I'll be killed as soon as the law finds out my real name."

Uncompromising black eyes glinted at her. "Then you must have killed someone, sweetheart. They don't hang you for any other reason."

She leveled eyes as amicable as gun barrels at him. "I've never killed anyone in my life, Mr. Smith. But if you take me to the sheriff's office you won't be able to make the same claim."

oooOOOooo

Maura blinked as she walked from the darkness of the sheriff's office into the caustic winter sunshine and adjusted her arm in its sling. She was pleased at the progress it had made in the four days she had been kept in jail whilst checks were made for any warrants and aliases. The town's doctor had been very solicitous in making sure that this surprisingly well-educated prisoner was well-fed and kept as pain free and comfortable as possible, whilst the enforced rest had certainly paid off in terms of healing. After sending telegrams far and wide across the country the deeply suspicious sheriff eventually had to reluctantly buy her cover story that she was only a runaway wife and let her walk free.

Well... as free as someone in her situation could be.

She could feel the sheriff's suspicious eyes boring into her back as she strode away from the building with her head held high despite the shame welling up inside at having come so far down in the eyes of the law that this upright man felt decent people had to be protected from her.

She had to get moving, but first she had to take care of some basic hygiene. It had been over a week since she had more than a cursory wipe with a flannel dipped in a basin of cold water and she had no intention of taking to the road without a bath and a change of clothes. After all, it might already be too late so what difference would another hour make?

Her clear, blue eyes scanned the street, not even sure what she was looking for, before she stepped down from the wooden sidewalk, lifting her skirts away from the muddy, churned up streets and headed towards the doctor's office. He had her bags, promising to protect her precious books and keep them safe for her until she was in a position to send for them.

She had told him part of her story and wasn't about to make the same mistake twice, she wouldn't be identified by those books again.

Maura's mind churned almost as much as her stomach. At least she had been safe in jail but who knew how much things had moved on whilst she'd been incarcerated. Damn Smith and Jones! Why couldn't they mind their own business?

She gazed around the town, watching the mundane goings on of everyday life in a small town; the women shopping, the men doing business and the chatter of the children milking every moment they could from their release from another day's schooling. How could the ordinary carry on like this when her life was in such turmoil?

The sheriff's eyes followed her, stalking her progress with open hostility from the other side of the road as she mounted the wooden sidewalk and clattered on her way. Her mind fermented with a mixture of anger and fear before she stopped sharply to avoid the child who darted in front of her, playing a game of tag with an older boy.

She would remember that moment for years afterwards, especially when people would talk about the crack of a gun or a bang... they had clearly never really heard the ringing bass notes of a firearm using black powder. It was a truly startling sound, especially when it was unexpected. It was probably the loudest sound she had ever heard but the shock was nothing compared with seeing a child drop in front of her with blood rapidly spreading over the back of his pale blue shirt like some kind of grotesque bloom opening to face the morning sun.

"No! Oh, my God!" she cried, dropping to her knees to help the boy as people surged forward.

Another shot rang out, splintering the wooden planks of the Saloon Bar just behind her head. The penny dropped... it was too late after all.

When she looked back, she could never decide if things went in slow-motion or at too rapid a pace to comprehend. In her flashbacks it could do either, but the sequence of events was always the same and the background noise always consisted of unseen women screaming from somewhere behind her whilst the lower register was filled with the shouts of frantic men, strangely distorted as though she was hearing them from the bottom of a deep lake .

More shots were fired, four in rapid succession from various directions, as another bullet slammed into the wooden sidewalk beside her leg. She threw herself on top of the boy, who was now sobbing into the wooden planks, just as strong arms wrapped themselves around them both and dragged them through the batwing doors and into the bar behind her. A single shot then blasted from just outside the door before an eerie silence descended on the street.

Kid Curry sucked in a breath, watching the gunman's arm drop as his bullet thumped into it. He kept his sights on the man in the high vantage point, ready to shoot again if he had to, before the man staggered, bumping heavily against the balustrade. His knees buckled and he toppled backwards, falling heavily from the balcony of the hotel before he landed head first on the damp street with a sickening thump as a people surged towards the crumpled figure.

A clamor of voices started to build to a crescendo of cries, shouting for the sheriff as Kid's clear blue eyes watched closely, alert for further danger. His hair trigger instincts drew him to a figure on the edge of the crowd whose stillness was completely at odds with the hubbub of the townsfolk. The stranger pushed through the crowd, clearly seeing the shaking head that indicated that the gunman was dead before turning and walking quickly away down an alley.

Kid studied the man carefully; his face, his stance, his walk, his reaction. Noticing people like that had kept him and his alive for years and every instinct told him that this man was worthy of his full attention.

A voice beside her seemed to jolt Maura back to her senses and she looked down at the boy who had somehow ended up in her lap. She raised a trembling hand as she slumped against the wall and looked at the wet blood smeared across her palm before she turned her head to take in the words spoken by the large bulldog of a man just beside her.

"Ma'am? I said, are you hit?"

His words seemed to break the spell and her consciousness snapped back to reality.

"No," she replied uncertainly, looking at the blood on her dress and smeared over the sling.

"Give him to me. We'll look after your son. We've called the doctor."

She shook her dazed head. "He's not my son. He just ran in front of me."

She steeled herself to observe the boy properly as she felt the tremor of his sobbing before she took hold of his shirt tail and ripped it straight up the back.

"Get me alcohol. The best alcohol and some clean towels," she stared at the men's shocked inaction. "Now! He's bleeding."

She quickly poured whiskey over his shattered shoulder and gently dabbed away the excess blood with the towel to reveal a nasty wound, but it was clean through and high enough to have missed any major organs, even the top of his lung. She heaved a sigh of relief knowing that she needn't worry about opiates suppressing compromised breathing as she pressed a pad of fabric against the wound to staunch the blood, wincing in pain as she had to use both hands. "Are there any drugs here? Any laudanum."

"Yes. I got some in my room but should he take that?" demanded a saloon girl. "He's real small and he's hurt. We should wait for the doc."

"Pain's not going to help him. Get it."

She pulled the boy round and cupped his face in her hand and looked deeply into his big, brown, tearful eyes. "I'm Maura. The doctor will be here in a minute and we'll get you well. You'll be fine. What's your name?"

"Billy," the boy stammered weakly.

"Well, Billy," Maura's eyes darted up to the returning saloon girl for a moment. "You've been so brave. The bravest boy I've ever met. What age are you, ten?"

"Six," he rasped.

She smiled gently, hoping that he wouldn't read her lie. "I really thought you were SO much older because you behaved like a real man. So brave."

The boy gave a lopsided smile of pride as he sniffed back tears. "Really?"

"Oh yes," she looked up at Doctor Edwards as he bustled into the bar. "This is Billy, he's been shot in the shoulder, doctor."

"I know Billy," replied the doctor as he assessed the wound. "Brought you into this world, didn't I son?"

Maura examined the bottle of reddish brown liquid the saloon girl had brought down from her room. "Anhydrous morphine, it doesn't say the strength. I'd say no more than four drops to be on the safe side."

"We could go up to six," replied the doctor.

She shook her head. "Not with an operation coming and an unpredictable strength, doctor. I really wouldn't," She crouched down and cupped the boy's chin in her left hand again. "Well. Billy, the doctor's going to look after you now and you'll stop hurting in no time. You take care now."

She turned, as her fluttering stomach went into freefall at the sight of Kid Curry's curious blue eyes by the door watching her every move with the sheriff by his side.

"Is there a back door?" she furtively asked the saloon girl.

"Sure is, honey. Follow me."

oooOOOooo

"What do you want now?" she demanded, shrugging off the deputy's hand from her one good arm as she glared at the sheriff. "You let me go, and now you drag me back into your office? All I did was walk down the street. Let me go right now. I want to leave here."

The sheriff shook his head. "You weren't out of here ten minutes and you get involved in a shootin'," he snarled. "If it wasn't for these two men here god only knows what would have happened."

Maura glowered at Heyes and Curry, not even noticing that they seemed to be as uncomfortable to be here as she was.

"I gotta thank you both gentlemen. Mr. Smith here dragged you both to safety," he threw out a hand towards the Kid. "Mr. Jones brought him down. Stopped him shootin'."

"Well then, get the man who shot at us to explain his actions. You can't blame me for being in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Can't do that, ma'am. He's dead. He was shooting from the hotel balcony and took a tumble."

Her eyes bored into the Kid. "You killed him!?"

"I shot him through the arm. I ain't my fault he fell off and broke his neck," he grunted in reply as his blue eyes glittered with angst. "I didn't mean for him to die. I did my best to make sure that he didn't."

"You did a good job out there, son. He weren't about to stop shootin' until someone brought him down."

"But we'll never know why he did it now," cried Maura.

Heyes sucked in a breath of disbelief and fixed her with accusing scrutiny. "I'm sure that you can help with that Miss O'Shaughnessy. It all seemed to be directed right at you. Do you really expect us to believe that you don't know why that man was shooting at you?"

"I can't help that. I don't know why."

"Ma'am, a child has been badly injured and you need to know that my tolerance of you was stretched to breakin' point by the time I had to let you walk out of here. You've done nothin' to help me. An innocent woman would have been able to give details about where they grew up, friends, family; anyone who could vouch for them. You just sat there and stared at me with those cold eyes of yours and let me dig around blindly. You ain't innocent as far as I'm concerned; I just couldn't find out what you did, so if you don't help me with this shootin' you're in deep trouble!"

"I can't help you? I don't know. I never even saw him."

"No one said that you did, ma'am. But you can sure tell us why anyone would want to harm you." barked the sheriff. "The way I see it you're either for us or agin us. If you don't help, you're part of the problem. Just why was that man shootin' up my town and how do I know it won't happen again?"

"I've no idea," she snapped back. "Why don't you interrogate them for a change? They're the reason I was still here today, if it hadn't been for them I wouldn't have even come here. Ask them."

A flicker of worry fluttered over the Kid's face before he stared her down. "Don't drag us into this, lady. We had no interest in whatever you been mixed up in until innocent people started to get caught up in it all. Today wasn't my idea of fun. A man died, you know."

"I'm not mixed up in anything. How do you know that the boy wasn't the target?"

"Billy Robbins is my sister's son! I doubt anyone would hire a gunman to deal with a six year old farmer's boy, Miss O'Shaughnessy," muttered the sheriff. "I can sure see why someone would pay to get you shot though. You've done nothin' but obstruct me in my duties since I first laid eyes on you. I know a criminal when I see one! I can smell it."

The two men shifted uneasily from foot to foot before Heyes interjected. "I'm sure it's not really that simple sheriff."

"I doubt that my ex-husband would hire a gunman to deal with me either sheriff. He was the one who had a lover, not me. I think he was glad to be rid of me," muttered Maura.

She would loved to have told him that she was being hunted down like an animal and she didn't even know why or by whom but she knew that he would never believe her. In any case, the last time she had turned to the law for help she had barely made it out alive. Whoever was behind this seemed to have access to every detail the lawmen had, so her mistrust had now reached epic proportions.

The sheriff gave a snort and sat down heavily behind his desk.

"I know how he feels... MRS. O'Shaughnessy. I take it that you're not prepared to tell me anything about what went on out there today?" he leaned back and folded his arms as he glared at her. "You're trouble and I don't like that in my town, especially if you won't take help when it's offered. You got two hours to get outta this town." The sheriff raised an enormous hand to squelch the protest playing around her outraged lips. "Two Hours. If you're still around at sundown I'll lock you up for vagrancy and anythin' else I can think of. Got that, lady? You're a criminal who's endangering innocent lives and one way or another I'll make sure that I deal with that threat."

"But the coach doesn't leave until tomorrow. How am I supposed to travel?"

"Two hours, lady."

"Sheriff," Heyes interjected. "She's injured... she can't ride. That's just not fair."

"Fair? My nephew's lyin' in the doctor's office with a bullet in him and she's doin' nothin' to help. I ain't takin' the risk that she attracts any more trouble. She can walk for all I care."

Maura turned burning blue eyes on Heyes and Curry. "Happy now? You can't say I didn't warn you." The Kid opened his mouth to speak only to be cut off by a voice simmering with indignation. "I'll be out of here before sundown, sheriff. In fact, I can't wait to get out of here!"

oooOOOooo

They watched her bedraggled figure disappear towards the bath house before the Kid looked cautiously around to make sure that no one could over hear them.

"What we gonna do, Heyes? There's clearly someone out to kill her. The sheriff let her go 'cos she ain't wanted. She's runnin' for her life."

Heyes let out a long slow breath and fixed his partner with serious brown eyes. "She doesn't want our help. She just wants to leave here."

"Yeah? And she would've been away from here if we hadn't turned her in. It's our fault that she's in this situation. She ain't wanted and we were so fixed on our amnesty that we didn't give a thought to whether or not she might have different reasons to be on the run."

"We don't know that she isn't wanted, Kid. All we know is that they couldn't trace a warrant."

"Whatever she's done, we made it worse and we got no room to talk. Just look at what we'd do if someone turned us in?"

"I know, Kid... I know," mused Heyes. "But what can we do? She can't stand the sight of us. She won't take our help."

The Kid folded his arms and stared determinedly into his partner's eyes. "What chance has she got without help? The sheriff won't even let her wait for tomorrow's coach and she can't hardly ride, even when she had two arms."

"Whoever it is knows she's here, that's for sure," replied Heyes pensively.

"Cos we made sure that she was kept here and the sheriff made sure that that half the country knew that she was in Deadridge. It's our fault, Heyes and we gotta put it right."

"It won't be easy. She hates us now and she's real angry."

Blue eyes twinkled mischievously at him. "Grandpa Curry used to say that he wouldn't give you a dime for a woman without a temper."

Heyes shook his head ruefully as his eyebrows arched. "He would say that, Kid. He grew up in Ireland. That's the only type they've got."

"Yeah,." he took off his hat and ran his fingers through his tousled, dirty blond hair. "Are you up for a drink? I've got a bad taste in my mouth."

Heyes looked at the troubled blue eyes in front of him, knowing just how much the death of the gunman had affected this contradictory man. "Sure. I think that's a real good idea."

oooOOOooo

Maura walked over to her newly purchased colt, already saddled in its stall and tried to find a convenient spot to hang her little carpet bag of belongings before she gave a little rasping gasp of hopelessness as she dropped her left arm and looked into the animal's soft brown eyes. "How are we going to do this, boy?"

She gently stroked the animal's neck before she dropped her head to nuzzle the velvet face, sucking in great lungs full of the unmistakably potent scent of horseflesh.

"Need some help?"

She swung round, visibly bristling with irritation as she drank in the tall, muscular figure leaning against the wooden post.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded. "Can't I go anywhere without you turning up?"

"I came to help," the Kid smiled sympathetically as he walked over to her. "You gotta be out of here real fast, but you can't ride."

"I can."

I saw you, darlin', you can't."

"I can. I just never rode bareback."

The Kid spoke gently. "Maura, I'm sorry that we turned you in but we thought you'd hurt someone."

"I've never…!" she shook her head in frustration. "Ooooh, just leave me alone."

"I can't do that. You gotta be out of here and heaven only knows what's comin' after you. You can't handle this alone," he blinked in confusion as he looked at her intently. "Has your hair changed color? It's lighter."

She snorted dismissively and untethered her animal, leading it to the door. "Don't be ridiculous. Good evening, Mr. Jones."

He shot out an arm and grasped the reins, fixing her with a flinty stare.

"It has. It's much lighter. It's blonde now," he stretched out his other arm and removed her hat to look at her still wet, hastily put up hair. "How did you do that? Did you bleach it like the girls in the saloon do?"

Her eyes widened in absolute rage at the comparison to a dissolute woman. "Give me my hat back! And no. I haven't bleached it. There's only one type of woman who does that kind of thing and I'm not one of them. Got that."

The Kid looked down at her simmering anger with a smile. She looked very different from the dowdy woman in the coach now she was dressed in a trim riding habit, nipped in at her tiny waist, but that hair was definitely a different color... it was now about the same shade as his.

"Fine, you ain't bleached it... you've gone prematurely blonde with stress."

"Get out of my way. I have to leave town before I get locked up. Where is your friend anyway?"

"He's outside, if we're takin' you outta here we've got to make sure that we're not followed."

"I'm going nowhere with you or your friend," she put her hand out to snatch the reins back but he dropped them and deftly caught her wrist as the little horse jerked slightly at the speed of his movement.

"Don't push me Mrs. O'Shaughnessy. Now listen up. We put you in danger and we're gonna put that right," he felt her tug against his grasp. "Whether you like it or not. There ain't nothin' you can do about it if we decide to follow you so you best get used to the idea and work with us. Once we get you somewhere it's safe to leave you, we'll be gone."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

The Kid's eyes glittered determinedly at her. "Just how long do you think a one armed, city girl is gonna last if there are any more out there like that man today? See sense woman."

He saw the doubt flicker in her clear, blue eyes before he pressed on. "You know we don't mean you any harm. Why would we have brought you back to Deadridge? Why would we have stepped in today if we were after you? We're just innocent men who brought you back to town because you behaved like you were wanted by the law, that's all."

He saw that his point had landed as he released her wrist and folded his arms. "So?" he asked. "What's it to be? You seen sense or has that bleach seeped into your brain?"

"It's not bleached!"

His knowing smile did very little to dampen down her irritation. "Sure, Mrs. O'Shaughnessy.. Whatever you say."

Maura scowled as her expressive face made it easy for the Kid to see the workings of her mind. "What if I was to pay you to take me to San Francisco?"

The Kid snorted in amazement. "Why on earth would you offer to pay me when I just suggested that we take you to safety for nuthin"?"

"Because this way you'll stay until I think it's safe, instead of when you think it's safe to leave me somewhere. In any case, I don't want you to think that you're in charge. I won't have you bossing me around."

The tousled head shook as he laughed. "Women. I ain't ever gonna understand them. You want to pay for what was offered for free? You're dumb, woman; Just plain stupid."

"I'll give you five dollars a day to keep me safe. Payable when we get to San Francisco," she tilted her head at him. "But I'm in charge, not you."

"Have you got that kind of money Mrs. O'Shaughnessy? That could mount up by the time we get there and there are two of us, that makes ten dollars a day."

She tilted her chin at him. "You saw my trunk. I'm not a farm girl. Once we get there we'll go to a bank, then we go our separate ways. But the price is five dollars a day whether both of you take me or just one. Either take it or leave me be."

"You'd better be sure, lady. My partner doesn't like to be double crossed. Five dollars a day?"

"Take it or leave it! You said you were heading there anyway. At least this way you can earn on the way."

"It'll take at last three days to get to San Francisco from here, probably more the way you ride. That's a lot of money to spend just to prove that you're in charge."

Maura grasped the bridle of the little sorrel and fixed Kid with a determined stare. "I don't want to prove that I'm in charge. I just want to get where I'm going in one piece, while I make sure that you aren't!"

oooOOOooo

"How'd they do that, Heyes?"

Dark, questioning eyes turned to the Kid. "Do what?"

"Make their hair go lighter? I can get that they can add somethin' to it to change the color or to make it go darker but what do they use to go blonder?"

Heyes darted a look at the stiff, hostile back riding slowly in front of them, trying to avoid contact or conversation.

Heyes gave a small laugh. "I've heard they use something called hydrogen peroxide. They used it to bleach straw hats until someone realized that it would do hair too. Quite popular amongst saloon girls but if you ask her one more time about bleaching her hair I think she'll punch you in the face. It's not seen as something that respectable women do. Why are you so fascinated by this? You've seen bleached hair before?"

"Yeah, but I ain't seen it suddenly go from brown before. You think she'll keep doin' it until it's, well; jet blond?"

Heyes stopped his horse and turned incredulous eyes on his partner. "Jet blond?"

The Kid bridled at Heyes' suppressed snicker as he stopped beside him. "What? Hair can be jet black, why can't it be jet blond?"

Heyes threw him an apologetic look but the laughter still played in his eyes. "It doesn't mean "very"... it means that it's as black as jet. It's a stone... as black as black can be."

The Kid shuffled in his saddle and nudged his mount back into action as he changed the subject. "I'm curious about who she really is, what she's doin'; all sorts of things."

Heyes chuckled lightly. "I knew there was more to it than a sudden interest in women's hairdressing. I'm interested too; real interested and when we stop tonight I'm gonna get the truth out of her."

The Kid turned concerned eyes on his partner. "And if she won't talk?"

Heyes looked deeply into his eyes with a determined smile. "She'll talk."

The Kid's jaw hardened. "She's hurt and scared. You ain't makin' that worse. I won't allow it."

A smile flickered over Heyes' face but didn't reach his eyes. "I won't. I can be very persuasive when I put my mind to it but don't forget that whoever's after her will be following us. I need to know what we're dealing with."

"Sure we do, but just remember not to be too hard on her."

Heyes tilted his head. "I saw her with the sheriff; that just isn't the way to get her to open up. Go in too hard and she clams up. She needs a gentle touch, real light, maybe even indirect."

The Kid nodded uncertainly, unsure of what his partner had planned but he knew that if anyone could charm the truth from her, Heyes could.

"Joshua, you think it is the husband?"

Heyes shook his head. "Thaddeus, when it comes to our new employer we don't know a thing. I'm not even sure about her name. All we really know is that she's real scared of something or someone and that she's good at changing her appearance."

They glanced up at her. The sophisticate in the smart, dark-blue riding habit was a world away from the dowdily dressed farm girl who had sat across from them in the coach.

"She ain't a flim flamer, Joshua. If she was she'd have had the sense to sit it out at the coach instead of makin' a run for it."

"True, but I won't be happy until we know who's after her and why. I worry about having only half the story. When we stop for the night I intend to get it out of her. We owed it to her to help get her out of town but guarding her from the unknown is another thing entirely."

oooOOOooo

They made camp after travelling for about two hours, making sure that they were far away enough from habitation for any fire to remain unseen. They had circled to the north, away from San Francisco and back towards the way they had come in an attempt to throw off any pursuit.

Maura sat cross legged on the ground with her skirts tucked around her legs, stabbing indifferently at the stew they had brought from town before she put down her tin plate.

"You not gonna eat that?" Kid asked feigning nonchalance.

She flicked up her eyes to meet his expectant face. "No, do you want it?"

He grinned. "I hate to see food wasted. Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I'm not hungry."

Kid paused, not yet touching the food. "You feelin' alright Mrs. O'Shaughnessy? Your arm painin' you?"

A look of slight surprise flickered over her face before she gave him a suspicious reply. "I'm fine. Please take it. It's just been a big day, that's all."

Heyes gave her a small smile seeing an opportunity at this lowering of her defenses. "If we're going too fast for you, you just need to let us know. We can take things easier if you need to."

"Thank you Mr. Smith. I will. But I'm fine at the moment, really."

Heyes arched an eyebrow. "Are you? That was a bad injury and it's been an awful day, by any standards. No one would blame you for being upset. It's been pretty bad for us too. After all, a man died. Thaddeus was real cut up about that."

Maura sucked in a breath. She had been so absorbed in her own feelings that she had completely overlooked how that day might have affected these men. She glanced at the Kid but he kept his gaze fixed resolutely away from hers, staring off into the bushes.

"I'm sorry. I never thought..."

"What did you expect?" He's not a killer; neither am I, for that matter. That's not something that happens every day you know. We're respectable men, travelling on business. We were doing all we could to follow the letter of law."

She nodded. "I owe you both an apology," her large, blue eyes darted from one to the other. "I'm sorry, I thought..."

"I think we all know what you thought, Mrs. O'Shaughnessy but I think that you now realize that you were wrong."

"Yes, I think I was. I'm sorry. To both of you."

Heyes pressed on. "Thank you. I expect that you were too caught up in it all to think about anyone else. You're probably more thoughtful of other people under normal circumstances."

Kid glanced over at his partner, knowing that something was coming. He had a lifetime of this circuitous manipulation and emphasizing her guilt was just the start of playing with her emotions until she gave him what he wanted.

This time it was information.

Heyes sat in silence knowing that her own weakness would drive her to fill that void. The crackling of the fire was the only sound cutting through the awkwardness until Maura spoke.

"I think I've been very hard on you. I was angry because you took me back to Deadridge but I really don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been there today. I'm sorry, truly I am."

"Hmmm, what do you think would have happened?" dark eyes glittered across the campfire at her. "I ask that because I don't think that's the first time that has happened to you."

An oppressive silence fell across the little camp site as Heyes held her gaze. "Well?" he pushed.

"I... How did you know?"

Heyes gave her a smile of reassurance. "I've seen people under stress like that before, feeling hunted. I know about that. You're not the first; more importantly you're not alone."

Her eyes glazed with tears as her voiced cracked with emotion. "I am. I'm completely alone..."

His eyes narrowed but he consciously injected warmth into his voice. "You were, Maura but you're not now. Why don't you tell me what's going on? Don't you owe us that at the very least? Shouldn't we know as much about what's out there as you do? It's coming for us too you know."

Tears streamed down her face as she shook her head in desperation. "I would if I could but I don't know! I really don't!"

The partners exchanged a look of concern as they both recognized the truth in her words. This woman was not a practiced liar.

Heyes sucked in a breath. "Fine, you don't know. I believe you. There's still some kind of truth there out though. Why don't you tell us what happened to you? Maybe we can see what it is. Why don't you start with your real name?"

oooOOOooo

"My name is Maura O'Shaughnessy. Miss. I have never been married. I'm a pharmacist, from Chicago."

Heyes smiled at her. A lot slipped into place for him now; her anatomical knowledge, her familiarity with medication, her medical knowledge, her education. Pharmacists in the 1880s were highly respected professionals and as this was a relatively new profession many women who were unable to become doctors were able to practice as pharmacists as there was no established cartel of men excluding them. Entry was unrestricted to women and even the public were accepting of what they saw as an extension to the ancient female skill in mixing of remedies.

But in reality pharmacists were far more than that; they were highly educated and they were compelled to be registered and pass rigorous examinations at a time when many of the older doctors they prescribed for had not; registration and a fully rounded medical degree for doctors was still a relatively new phenomenon. They were front line health care for poor and lower income people who could never hope to afford a doctor and even the wealthy would familiarize themselves with the many over the counter medications and medical appliances which pharmacists made themselves in their experimental backrooms. A good pharmacist was worth their weight in gold to the local community and everything he had seen led Heyes to believe that she was very, very good indeed.

She continued. "One day I was crossing down the street and a horse ran at me. I thought it was a runaway and thanked the man who pulled me away. I thought nothing of it but then a chimney pot fell from a roof, then there was a stray bullet; then there was the gas explosion at my shop but I was away as a friend was giving birth. I was beginning to feel really paranoid but the one day I was at the railway station. I felt the hand push me right in front of the train! There could be no mistake this time, other people saw it but he got away. It was completely deliberate and if it hadn't been pulled away I would have died that day. I eventually accepted that someone was trying to kill me and that they were no longer trying to make it look like an accident."

She paused, looking at both men in turn. "I went to the law but they were worse than useless so I moved to a new town near my aunt and started to make plans to build a new life. It all went well until I registered with the local pharmacist association. Within the week there was a shooting. I was injured, shot in the leg, but I just knew that I couldn't stay there because they'd obviously traced me through the association. I snuck off back to Chicago on the train and went to the police department there."

"What happened?" asked Heyes with more than a hint of cynicism for the role of law enforcement in all of this.

"It went from bad to worse. I was hiding for my life and the house I was in was attacked by three men, it was completely riddled with bullets. Thank god they never looked in the loft. They probably didn't think a woman with a bad leg could get up there, either that they thought I'd gotten away."

"How is your leg now?" the Kid queried quietly.

"It's fine," she smiled at him with real warmth for the first time since the coach. "It was a slight flesh wound, healing nicely, but it doesn't help me ride. I'm not usually that bad, but it aches. As soon as I could, I changed my appearance and disappeared because the only way that anyone could have found me was if the police had told them where I was; they were the only ones who knew. You met me on the coach. You know the rest."

There was a long thoughtful pause before the Kid spoke. "Miss O'Shaughnessy. I'm sorry, real sorry. We should never have taken you to town. If you had told us this."

She cut him off, but this time there was real understanding in her voice. "I can't blame you. I would probably have thought the same. Whoever is behind this obviously picked up on the sheriff telegraphing about me. Yet again, he was sending them to other officers of the law and whoever found me did it through them."

The Kid shook his head. "Why didn't you tell us? Did you think we wouldn't have believed you?"

She shrugged. "Partly. I also couldn't trust you. I couldn't trust anyone."

Blue eyes glistened with intensity. "Have you any family?"

Her voice faltered with emotion as she answered him. "Yes. a big family. That was the main reason I decided to disappear. My brothers wouldn't leave my side. If anything had happened to them I couldn't have lived with myself. I thought that at least it would have only be me," her voice broke with a sob. "Until today; that poor little boy!"

"Miss O'Shaughnessy," Heyes asked. "I have no doubt that someone is trying to kill you. I saw that with my own eyes but why? Have you any enemies?"

She shook her head as she raised her eyebrows. "I clearly have; very powerful enemies who can access pharmacological associations, police records, even telegrams but I have no idea who or why."

"So what's your plan?" the Kid inquired.

"To go quietly to a large town where I can lose myself in the crowd and build a new life under a new name. I'll take the pharmacological examinations again under an assumed name, start a new identity. Live quietly, if I'm allowed to. My shop was insured. I have a nest egg. I can start again."

"You shouldn't have to do that," murmured the Kid.

She shrugged. "What else can I do?"

"I don't know, Miss O'Shaughnessy," replied Heyes in a heavy voice. "I think you're right though. Sometimes you have to accept reality instead of wasting your life in a fight you can't win. Thank you for being honest with us. I can see why that would be difficult for you. I can't promise you that it'll all work out. I can only promise you that we'll do our best for you."

She sighed deeply before she answered with a watery smile. "All I really ask is that you don't shoot me or push me in front of a train."

"I think we can manage that, Miss O'Shaughnessy," Heyes replied softly. "But I can't promise to keep you from starving as long as you're prepared to let my friend eat your dinner every night."

oooOOOooo

They sat chatting quietly by the fire as Maura settled into her bedroll and started to fall into a restless sleep.

"Well?" demanded the Kid. "What do you think?"

Heyes smiled enigmatically. "Why? What do you think?"

"I think she's tellin' the truth. If she was lyin' she'd come up with somethin' much better than not knowin" why and only someone so honest that they were stupid would have run away from the coach like she did. They'd have to be real desperate. Her being set up by corrupt lawmen in Chicago explains why she didn't want to face the sheriff. She was in a house that was shot up when she went to the law for help. It all fits."

"I agree," murmured Heyes. "But who would want to kill a pretty, little pharmacist from Chicago? She's cute, but not important."

"You think she gave the wrong drug to someone?"

Heyes shrugged. "If she did, why do it this way? Why not get her arrested or just shoot her if you were angry enough? The way she describes it, it started out by trying to make it look like an accident but they're getting more and more desperate. A runaway horse or a chimney pot tumbling down is a million miles from shootin up a house or a sending a gunman to dispatch her in front of a sheriff on a main street."

"So; they're mean and runnin' out of time?"

Dark eyes flashed at him. "And headed our way, Thaddeus."

"How can she have no idea what this is about? She must know if she's upset someone that much." Kid paused as a thought hit him. "Maybe it ain't an ex-husband. Maybe it's a jealous wife?"

Heyes gave a snort of dismissal. "This doesn't seem to be the work of a woman's hand to me. Gunmen? I'm not dismissing it but this just seems altogether more masculine to me."

"Jilted lover then?"

Heyes raised his eyebrows. "You don't believe that any more than I do. She's not the worldly type."

"I know," replied the Kid. "I just can't work it out. She's got herself one mean, powerful enemy and she doesn't seem to be important enough to even know people like that."

They sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I thought she was angry at bein' turned in," said Kid quietly. "Now I know she was just plain scared."

Heyes shook his head and fixed the Kid with sympathetic eyes,

"You've got a way of beating yourself up that only folks like me know about. Look, I was harder on her than you were. I thought she might have killed someone."

"So what now?"

"Well, I've had a few thoughts." Heyes paused and arched his eyebrows. "I think we've got to do what's unexpected."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Head back the way we came and get the train to San Francisco from a northern branch line. We've got to collect the documents from there to courier them back to Wyoming and it'll be quicker that way. They're looking for a woman on horseback. She's not going to be on one. It'll also be easier to guard her on a train, especially if she's coming from the wrong direction."

"Makes sense," nodded the Kid with a wry smile. "As long as it ain't held up."

oooOOOOoo

The Kid clanged the coffee pot noisily against the rocks around the campfire. It was getting late and he was beginning to think that she was never going to wake up.

Maura stirred and her big, blue eyes flickered open before she stretched out her aching, stiff limbs. She gave a sudden judder as a jolt of pain ran through her shoulder in protest at being moved too far.

"You alright, Miss O'Shaughnessy?

She turned blinking, heavy eyes to him as she stifled a yawn. "Yes thanks," she started to heave herself upright inelegantly on one arm. "I didn't realize that the ground was so hard... and so cold!"

His mouth twitched into a smile. "Have some coffee. That'll warm you up."

"Good morning, up at last?" Heyes strode back into the campground as he gave her a dimpled grin. "I was beginning to think that you were hibernating."

"Hiber… what?" queried the Kid.

"Remember you said I was like a grizzly with sore feet?" Maura retorted wryly, brushing disheveled hair from her face. "I think your friend agrees with you."

"I never said you looked like a bear!" the Kid replied defensively. "I said you rode like one..."

"And a monkey too," Maura added.

"I'm sorry. That's not very flattering. You look more like a…," Kid struggled to find a simile. "What do you call those birds you like Joshua? The ones in that book you showed me."

"Pelicans?" suggested a grinning Heyes, unhelpfully.

"No. They're real elegant, the ones with long legs."

Maura struggled to her feet. "Well! I'm going to wash before you compare me to any more wildlife," she took off her sling to allow her more freedom of movement in her ablutions. "I won't be long."

"That's a real silver tongue you got there, partner," laughed Heyes as she walked off toward the river. "I think you've made an impression."

"Thanks. You were really helpful. A real pal."

"What! Since when did we agree that I'd back off when there's a woman about? Why should I help you out?"

They froze as they simultaneously detected a sound behind them as the Kid went for his gun.

"Well, look who we got here."

They looked at the short, square man who walked cautiously into the clearing followed by a lanky, dark youth with a hooked nose.

"This here, Adam, that's Hannibal Heyes himself," he indicated for the young man with his left hand. "And that's the one and only Kid Curry, so you'd best put that gun away, real fast."

A smile spread of recognition spread over Heyes' face. "Moses Brooker! I haven't seen you in years What the hell are you doing in this neck of the woods? This your boy? He's grown."

I got me a job. A real one; I got to find someone."

"Find someone?"

"Yeah. A woman, she's run away from home. Her husband's looking for her."

"Really? Someone's been mad enough to send you after his wife? That's like sending a wolf to find a lost sheep," snorted Heyes. "I wouldn't trust you around any woman without a chaperone."

Moses gave a chortle. "So I like a pretty girl? That ain't a crime and I should know; I committed enough of them. Anyways, I ain't to approach her, just find her and report back. There's a lawyer got men looking all over. You seen anything? Young, with brown hair? Arm in a sling?"

Heyes nodded his head as his eyes instantly filled with feigned innocence. "Yeah, sure. Saw her in town, back in Deadridge."

"They say she left there yesterday," Moses replied as he eyes drifted off over Heyes' shoulder, before a smile spread over his stubble covered chin. "Well, hello there, Miss." His hand leapt up and swept the hat from his balding head as he hissed at the youth. "Take that hat off, boy. That's a lady. A real fine lady."

The full power of Moses' artless charm beamed it's way to the woman standing at the edge of the clearing with eyes like saucers as Adam clumsily complied with his father's command.

A muscle tensed in the Kid's Jaw. How long had she been there and just how much had she heard?

"The lady"s with me," Kid stated simply as he strode over to her. "I'll be right back."

Moses grinned inanely, failing to relate the attractive blonde to the brown haired runaway he was seeking.

"So?" Heyes continued casually. "How you been? You still running with the William's gang?"

"Us, no. James Williams got shot up and got hisself dead. Dave headed off to Mexico. Ain't been seen since. I now work mostly alone but if there's a big job I'll ask Isaac Jernott to help out." he titled his head. "You two've been quiet. You're not with the Devil's Hole Gang anymore, so I hear?"

Heyes nodded. "We've been living quietly, trying to earn a buck without getting our heads shot off. Funnily enough we're working for a lawyer too. We're acting as a courier," he indicated to the coffee pot and hoped above hopes that the Kid could keep Maura quiet. "You got time for a drink? You can tell me who you're working for and maybe we can turn a dollar when we're finished here?"

oooOOOooo 

As the Kid approached Maura he saw her step back abruptly, her eyes flickering with fear. Her mouth started to open and he knew instantly that he had to stop her from speaking. He grasped her firmly by her good arm and walked her away from the campground as he spoke over her. "We need to talk, darlin'. You've seen our visitors. They're lookin' for a woman who ran away from her husband."

She trotted unwillingly in his wake as he quickly dragged her away from the area and pushed her up against a tree. His heart dropped as he felt her tremble in his hands.

"Maura!" he hissed urgently in her ear. "Don't be scared. They're looking for you but they don't recognize you. Thank god you bleached your hair. They're looking for a brunette."

He looked down into her clear blue eyes, disquieted by the alarm in her rasping breath.

"You're Kid Curry," she muttered accusingly

He released a muttered curse. So, she had heard and there was little point in denying it.

"Please. Just let me go. Tell them you killed me. They'd never know! No one will ever see me again."

His brow creased in concern as he looked into her terrified eyes. "Darlin', I ain't gonna hurt you. I'm not a killer."

"You're a famous gunman," she stuttered. "Please, Just do it quickly. I can't do this anymore."

He looked deeply into her eyes before he dropped his head. "I'm the same man I was last night, Maura."

"No you're not. I thought you were business men. You're a criminal, probably the most wanted man in the country." Her nostrils flared slightly as she began to hyperventilate and her pupils fixed to pinpoints of fear. "I trusted you. I'm an idiot."

"Hush now, you're not," he gently stroked the top of her arms and spoke quietly and reassuringly into her ear. "Yes, I'm a wanted man but Heyes and Curry never killed anyone. I'm a thief, that's all I am. Of course I never told you who I was. That wouldn't have helped you. That's all that's changed."

She shook her head in disbelief. "What are you going to do to me?"

He gave her a pained smile and looked deeply into her eyes, realizing that he had never seen her expressive little face without underlying tension. "I'm gonna help you, darlin', just like I was last night. All that's changed is my name."

"He's Hannibal Heyes! How did I get myself into this? I was a respectable woman. I had a shop, I went on church picnics; for heaven's sake, I'm on the run mixing with criminals."

He smiled as he saw her breathing start to slow down as her panic receded. "I think that it's more important that we find out how you're going to get out of this. You've tried the law and that was a disaster. Why not try a couple of criminals who are trying to turn over a new leaf?"

She shook her head. "I can't. I can't trust you."

He bit his lip pensively before he spoke again. "If I was going to hurt you, why didn't I do it before now? Answer me that, Maura."

She hesitated as he dropped his head so that his forehead touched hers. When he spoke again she was struck by the heartfelt earnestness of his words. "Maura. If you want to leave, then go; but I'm scared for you. I really am. Please let me help you. Heyes is back there findin' out who's sendin' men out looking for you. We can start to change things now. We can find out why and who."

"But those men!?"

"We know them Maura! They're not killers either. They're paid to find you and report back. They think they're lookin' for a runaway wife. Moses Brooker couldn't hurt a fly. Especially not a woman, he thinks he's a charmer. The most offensive thing about him is his breath."

"They didn't recognize me?"

"No. They're looking for a brunette with an arm in a sling. They didn't spot you. Even if they had, you're with a fast gun and quick mind. They wouldn't have stood a chance."

She gave a hopeless sigh. "So we find out who hired them. What can I do with that when I can't find an honest lawman?"

"Maura, if you need an honest lawman we can help with that too. We sure know the ones that can't be corrupted but my grandpa had a saying I think you should think about."

She gave a snort. "Yes? And what was that? Every cloud has a silver lining? Something about making lemonade with the lemons life hands you? I don't need trite little homilies."

He gave her a warm little chuckle. "My grandpa was Irish and before he came to the states he used to be a navigator. He dug canals and built tunnels; it was backbreakin', dangerous work and there were cave ins. He used to say that when you couldn't see light at the end of the tunnel you had two choices. You can sit there and wait for it or you can stomp along there and light the darn thing yourself," he flicked up an eyebrow in challenge. "The woman I saw in that bar helpin' that boy wasn't for waitin'. You've got fight in you." He smiled as he saw that his words had landed.

"Now I know what your friend meant when he said that he knew what it felt like to be hunted!"

Kid nodded. "Yup and it taught us a few very important lessons."

"What? What did it teach you?"

He gave a gentle laugh. "Mostly, how not to get caught. Now, don't you think that might be useful to you?"

She smiled in spite of herself. "I suppose it would, yes."

"We'll get you to San Francisco safe and sound, darlin'. It's a good job you bleached your hair. It might be a good idea to change your appearance there again."

"That'll happen anyway," she flicked up her eyebrows and look at him with challenging blue eyes. "I darkened my hair with a vegetable dye I made. It's washing out. By the time I get to San Francisco I should be back to my own color. I'm naturally very blonde."

The Kid gave a throaty laugh. "So you didn't bleach it?"

"I'm not a liar, Mr. Curry. I told you that I didn't. Pharmacists make all kinds of cosmetics too you know. You'd be surprised at the number of respectable matrons whose beauty comes in a jar."

"I don't think that yours does Maura, no matter what color your hair is," his voice bubbled with relief now that her fear had subsided. "You'll stay? Let us take you to San Francisco?"

She nodded tentatively. "You'd have killed by me now if you were working for them. I have to follow my instincts; it's all I have left."

"We're headin' north and takin' the train. We should be there in a few days. When we get there I think we should pay a call on an old friend of ours. If anyone can keep you safe until we find out who's behind this Silky can. No one will find you there. Absolutely no one."

He stared at her intently. "Maura, I have to ask you this. Are you sure that you're not married?"

She looked him straight in the eyes. "No. I've never even been engaged. Whoever's behind this isn't a jilted lover. I give you my word."

oooOOOooo

The train journey was uneventful. They travelled quietly and unobtrusively with Maura washing her hair again so that it turned a bright, honey blonde with golden highlights. She also went without the sling in an attempt not to draw attention to herself, supporting her injured arm in her lap or holding it with the other arm as though she was clutching her bag to her chest. No one had paid the slightest attention to them, other than a few curious women wondering which of the two attractive strangers was not paired with the woman.

It was already dark when they stood outside Silky's mansion in the rain as the door was opened by an erect man in a black suit.

"Yes?" he enquired grandly.

"Mr. O'Sullivan is expecting us. We sent a telegram; Mr. Smith and Mr. Jones."

The flunky stood aside and drew the door fully open, revealing a grand hallway with a sweeping staircase as an sprightly looking elderly gentleman walked towards them with an impish twinkle in his blue eyes.

"Boys! Good to see you looking so well," he paused and smiled at Maura. "And just who is this enchanting creature?"

"Maura O'Shaughnessy. Thank you for seeing me."

"So how can I help you? I understand that you want something?"

They followed Silky into the plush drawing room as Maura glanced around admiringly. She had never been in such grandeur in her life.

"Can I offer you a drink, some brandy perhaps? Miss O'Shaughnessy, I have a fine Portuguese sherry you may appreciate."

As they settled down on the velvet cushions Silky's experienced eyes shrewdly assessed the young woman as Heyes spoke. "Silky, we need a favor. A real big favor."

One side of Silky's mouth twitched up in a lopsided grin. "Don't you always? What is it this time? Did someone try to turn you in again?"

"Nope," replied the Kid accepting a glass. "Miss O'Shaughnessy here needs a place to hide. A real safe place. A hotel or a boarding house is just the kind of place they'll be watching."

The old man's eyes drifted over to her as he got straight to the point. "What is she wanted for? I can't risk my home and retirement."

Maura fixed him with an earnest look. "I'm not wanted. Someone is trying to kill me."

"Really?"

"Yes, really. We saw it with our own eyes," said Heyes. "It's a long story."

The servant opened the doors and nodded discretely before closing the doors again.

"Well! Why don't you tell me over dinner? I've kept it for you," he proffered an arm to Maura but pulled it back when she indicated her injury. "Miss O'Shaughnessy? May I escort you in?"

oooOOOooo 

"Well, Miss O'Shaughnessy? I expect it's been a while since you've slept in a comfortable bed. I've had the staff lay out some basics and take your bag up to your room. Sleep well. I have to talk to Mr. Heyes and Mr. Curry. I'll see you in the morning. Andrews will show you to your room."

Maura paused, sensing that this conversation was pivotal to her well-being. "Yes, goodnight and thank you for your hospitality Mr. O'Sullivan."

"You are very welcome. Cigars, gentlemen?"

The men walked towards the drawing room but the Kid held back.

"I'll be through in a minute, pour me a brandy," he walked over to the servant. "What room is she in?"

"The blue room, sir."

"I'll take her up." Kid replied with a nod. He had stayed in this house a few times himself and knew his way around. He waited until they were alone before he spoke. "Maura, we'll be gone in the morning."

She smiled at him. "I may be too. I have to thank you both. I really don't know what would have happened to me if I hadn't met you two."

He shook his head and started up the stairs beside her. "I don't want to think about that but you'll be safe here. Silky's as slippery as they come but he doesn't hold with violence. He'll help you and I want you to stay here until you hear from us. We have to make a delivery in Wyoming then we'll go to Sacramento to find out who employed the lawyer who had men searching for you."

"He hasn't said I can stay yet."

"He will."

She threw him a worried look. "I wish you would leave this. It's too dangerous. I can start again now you've gotten me here."

He smiled at her as they reached the top landing and gestured to her to turn left. "Nope, I've got no time for people who kill innocent people because they get in their way. You stay here until you hear from us. You don't go out, you don't contact anyone, not even your family."

He stopped outside a door and turned the knob. "This is it, your home for the next few weeks."

She looked around the beautiful room, tastefully decorated in white and pale blue. "How lovely," she gasped.

"Yup. Sure is," she turned and saw that he was smiling warmly at her at he leaned on the door frame. He flicked up his eyebrows. "You fit right in."

He placed gentle fingers under her chin and tilted her face up to his before he kissed her delicately on the lips. He pulled back and looked deeply into her eyes. "I've wanted to do that for a long time."

She blushed softly but managed a soft smile despite her obvious inexperience. It was as he thought; she had spent time around books and test tubes at the expense of real life. In that moment his last doubt was dispelled. Whoever was looking for her was not an ex-lover.

His long fingers trailed across her cheek as deep, blue eyes glittered with warmth. "Goodnight, Maura. That was just in case I don't see you again."

oooOOOooo

The handle shifted under Heyes' hand as his face dimpled into a delighted grin and let out the breath he had been holding. That moment, when the safe eventually responded to all his attentions by reacting to the touch of his clever fingers was always climactic to him.

"Good girl, I knew you'd give up all your secrets," he patted the top of the door gently. "You just needed a bit of attention, didn't you?"

"I worry about you, Heyes. It's a lump of metal!" Kid shook his head.

"Nope, it's way more than that! It's an intricate, delicately balanced piece of technology. One wrong touch, too hard or not firm enough, and she just won't give it up. She's a challenge and every one is an individual. They all got the same parts but they all have their own little quirks and the challenge is finding them. No two are exactly the same. They need a special touch and I've got that."

The Kid shifted from one leg to the other as his brows furrowed. "Fine, next time we get to a town I'll find a lady. You can play with a safe."

"Hold that light up! This is it. The account ledger. Let's see whose account he's charging all these searches to. Number 8769. Right... let's see who that is."

Heyes sucked in a breath. "Dexter, Wallingham and Buckingham of Chicago. Another law firm. Moses Brooker only told us about this firm. He probably didn't know his employer had been hired by another lawyer."

"Yup, but one step nearer," Kid murmured. "I'm guessin' that whoever it is hired them to find Maura, but that she went too far afield for them to do the work themselves."

"Well, everyone knows that law firms are a good way to hire an investigator without telling them too much about who's behind it."

"Sneaky but clever."

"Chicago's a long way, Kid. Just how interested are we in this?"

The Kid grinned at him. "The same as usual, Heyes. When do we ever have the sense to keep out of anythin'?"

oooOOOooo

"Joshua..."

The Kid looked irritated and kicked at his partner's foot before he raised his voice. "Joshua!"

Heyes glanced up from his newspaper. "What?"

"How late did they say this train was gonna be?"

"Two hours," his eyes dropped down to the newspaper again.

"And how long since we were told that?"

He watched the top of Heyes' head as he continued to read.

"Joshua, how long?"

Irritated dark eyes darted up to the Kid. "I told you, two hours."

"No, I've asked you another question since then. How long has it been since they told us that?"

Heyes shrugged. "I don't know. You've got a watch; use it."

The Kid snorted. "What's so all fired important about that newspaper? It's borin" enough sittin' here in this waitin" room without havin' anyone to talk to either."

Heyes shifted on the bench. "This is a Chicago newspaper. It's probably been left in the waiting room by someone who got off a train from there."

"Chicago? Where Maura comes from?"

"Precisely; there's a story in here that's real interesting. A young woman's been arrested and she's going to stand trial for murder."

"So?"

"There's a picture of her," he held up the newspaper to show an etching of a stunningly beautiful, young woman with dark brown ringlets. "This story's got it all, sex, money, intrigue. She looks like butter wouldn't melt but she's had lovers; more than one. She's accused of killing one of them to leave the way clear to marry the rich one her father approved of. Seems the poor man was inconvenient and the rich one wouldn't have married her if he'd known that she had a past."

"Sound's interestin', but that ain't the sort of thing you usually read."

"She's real rich too," Heyes continued. "Her grandpa made a fortune inventing a mechanical reaper. They're millionaires."

"Well! Good for her. She can afford the best lawyers money can buy. She'll probably get away with it," retorted Kid with a yawn.

"But the bit at the end here is the most interesting. It seems that the murdered man was seeing more than one woman. Miss Epstein; that's the accused, claims that the murdered man was a married fortune hunter and that his secret wife murdered him in a fit of anger after he fell in love with their mark. She reckons it was all a big con and the man became a liability. Her rich pa's made sure that her defense is all over the newspapers," Heyes' dark eyes twinkled at the Kid. "What do you think?"

"I think you've been sittin' in this waitin' room too long. It reads like a dime novel. You don't usually read that stuff."

"He's sending men all over the country to prove his daughter's innocence. He's desperate."

Kid shrugged. "Of course he is. He's her Pa. If she's found guilty she'll hang."

Heyes threw the newspaper over at the Kid as he stood up decisively. "Read it. The devil's in the details. I'm going to change our tickets. We're going to see Maura. It's about time this was sorted out once and for all."

"What's this got to do with her?"

"Her pa's sent investigators to every pharmacy in Chicago to prove that his daughter couldn't have poisoned the man because she never bought any arsenic."

"So? She could have given a false name."

Heyes hooked him with an intense look. "He says that she's so beautiful that people would remember her and judging by the picture he may have a point, but there's one pharmacy we know they couldn't have checked because it was blown up, Thaddeus."

Kid gasped as Heyes' point landed. "And the pharmacist who might be able to identify her is running for her life?"

"Precisely, she could have been dead by now. And the handwriting in the poisons register is just ashes."

"What about the wife?"

Heyes nodded. "It could be her, Rebecca Epstein might be telling the truth. If it was a scam and the Epstein woman was the mark there could be a whole gang of them out to protect themselves and Maura may be the only one who can identify the murderer. They've probably gotten desperate because of the publicity Epstein's generating."

The Kid's eyes narrowed. "What can we do about this? We can't let them get away with it."

"We won't. That's why I'm changing the tickets. We're heading back to San Francisco. It's about time that she fought back."

"Joshua," hissed Kid as Heyes started to walk to the door.

"Yeah?" Heyes turned catching the urgency of his tone.

Kid strode over to him, his eyes fixed on the platform outside of the waiting room door as he hung back in the shadows. "See that man who just got off the train from Sacramento?"

Heyes glanced at the brown haired, mustachioed man whose grey eyes scanned the railway station, before he stalked away like a panther. "You know him?"

The Kid nodded as spoke quietly. "He was in Deadridge, when the shootin' happened. He didn't act like an innocent bystander. He made sure that the shooter was dead and then headed for the shadows."

"Tied down gun, moves like a gunfighter. Any idea who he is?"

"Nope. I knew that the shots came from more than one direction though. I was lookin' for another gun. I think he decided to mingle with the crowd and was happy to head off when he knew that he couldn't be named."

Heyes grinned mischievously. "He just came in from Sacramento, like us. I wonder if he's been at the same place we just were, but got a later train?"

Kid's eyes widened with faux innocence. "Only one way to find out..."

"Did he see you in Deadridge?" asked Heyes.

"I'm sure of it, but he ain't see me today."

"Well, no time like the present," Heyes glanced out of the door. "We got time to kill anyway."

oooOOOooo

Heyes strolled up to the bar as the Kid took up a position near the poker tables where he could keep the stranger in his line of sight but remain obscured.

Heyes caught the eye of the grey whiskered man behind the bar and he positioned himself beside their quarry. "Beer please, barman."

He leaned both elbows on the bar and looked deeply down into his beer before he spoke in a low voice to the man next to him. "I got a message for you."

The man spluttered and turned to Heyes. "What then...?"

"Stop it," hissed Heyes urgently. "Are you some kind of amateur? Look down at your drink. We can't be seen talking."

The man dropped his head down to his drink with an air of confusion. "Who are you?"

"A friend. You don't need to know my name and I don't need to know yours. Got that?"

"What the hell do you want?"

"I've got a message from Dexter, Willingham and Buckingham all the way from Chicago," Heyes kept his eyes on the dark wood grain of the polished bar top. "I told you not to look at me, man!"

The man sucked in a breath as Heyes turned his back to the bar and leant back on both elbows and looked out on the bar room, still talking discretely out of the side of his mouth as his bluff continued. "Talk to me. I gotta be sure I got the right man."

"You got the right man," muttered the stranger.

"Good. I know that you've drawn a blank. You've lost her, haven't you?"

"Yup. How'd you know."

"Telegrams; they're the future you know." Heyes' dark eyes drifted to the ceiling where the swirling tobacco smoke had soiled the plasterwork so badly that it was starting to gather in little brown globules of nicotine. "You're not the only one looking for her."

"I thought I was the only one left," murmured the gunman.

"He hasn't told you everything. You're just the hired help, same as me," Heyes started to change tack, knowing that it was time to draw the man out. He could only bluff so far before he said something which got caught him out.

"I didn't know." the man replied. "How did you find me?"

"I got a telegram," Heyes gave the Kid a flicker of reassurance before he turned back and face the bar again. "I was told to look out for a dark man with a moustache in my line of work. I thought the saloon was a good place to start. I knew you right away. I could tell from the way you wear your gun."

"So what's the message?"

Heyes gave a wry smile. It was time to play.

"She was seen heading east again by one of those men who've been sent to find her and report back. You're to head straight for Chicago and work your way back. You have to head west checking out every town on the way. I'm to check out every town from here heading east until we meet in the middle. She's gonna be in one of them."

"That's a huge job!"

"Tell me about it," moaned Heyes, hoping he might provoke a statement from the man with flattery. "It's good to see they got a professional on the job. I was worried that they might just be pulling in saddle bums."

The man nodded and gave a small smile. "Sure does pay well. They only want the best. When am I to go?"

"The next train. You got about an hour and a half before the train leaves. We'll find her; she's been more lucky than clever."

The man sucked in a breath. "Dammit, I'd best go eat."

"Yup, I guess so," Heyes drained his glass and threw a few coins on the bar and gave the Kid a nod to make himself scarce before the gunman turned to watch him leave. "I've gotta start here. Have a safe journey. No doubt I'll see you in the Mid West somewhere because I've drawn a blank here. Head for the biggest bar in town each night for six o'clock. If I'm in town I'll do the same thing. Then we'll know we covered everywhere."

oooOOOooo 

"How'd you get on?" the Kid asked as they watched the gunman stride over to the railway station to change his ticket.

"Pretty well," nodded Heyes with a twinkle. "He confirmed that he was employed by the lawyers in Chicago and that he was looking for Maura. I couldn't ask the name of the client, it would have been too obvious. He's getting well paid, so there's money behind it."

"Has he been paid to kill her?" demanded Kid.

"How could I ask that without arousing suspicion? It doesn't matter. I got rid of him."

Kid's eyebrows rose. "How? Where?"

"He thinks I work for the same outfit. He's heading back to Chicago to systematically search every town heading west until he and I meet in the middle. He thinks I'm working my way out to meet him. That should keep him out of the way for a while."

Kid gave a snort of laughter. "What? How'd you do that?"

Heyes shrugged. "I just gave him his orders and he took them. It won't last. He'll telegraph for details, but hopefully by the time he does he'll be half way to Chicago."

"I can't believe that he swallowed that," chuckled the Kid.

"Me neither. Life's hard enough, but it's even harder when you're dumb," he paused. "We'd best keep out of his way until the train leaves. Fancy a game of poker?"

The Kid shrugged. "Sure. There ain't another train to San Francisco until tomorrow anyway."

oooOOOooo

"Maura. This is Manuel Vivanco. He's a lawyer," Heyes indicated the other two men who stood as she came into the room. "They are inspectors in the San Francisco Police Department. They call all their detectives, inspector."

"Inspector Hewer. ma'am." The taller of the two men watched the shock flicker over her face at being brought to a lawyer's office and being at confronted by law enforcement.

"Now, Inspector Hewer," Manuel Vivanco's soft Hispanic accent lilted mellifluously. "You understand that Miss O'Shaughnessy has had a very stressful and frightening time. She has made at least two reports of attempts on her life in Chicago and another in a small town called Bettyhill; all before the attack in Deadridge. She has been systematically hunted and there is good evidence to show that corrupt police officers made confidential details of her whereabouts available to the very people from whom they should have been protecting her. It is for that reason that we will not disclose her current whereabouts to the police. Nor will we name the two men who are here protecting her. Do you understand that?"

The inspectors nodded in unison as the taller man gave Maura a sympathetic look. "Mr. Vivanco. You said that you have important information relating to a murder investigation in Chicago. Why couldn't these people come to the police station to file a proper report?"

"Because the last time Miss O'Shaughnessy walked out of a sheriff's office someone tried to kill her, Mr. Hewer," Heyes stated simply. "I think that in light of that it's not too much to ask that you take a short ride in a cab."

He nodded as Maura sat down, the color dropping from her face as she glanced accusingly at Heyes and Curry. All she had wanted to do was to fade into the background and live quietly and she knew that they hadn't told her about this meeting because she would have resolutely refused to attend. She had thought that she was meeting Silky's lawyer to access her bank accounts in a way that meant she couldn't be traced.

"Miss O'Shaughnessy," Manuel's dark eyes smiled reassuringly at her. "I am here to make sure that your rights are protected and that you are treated in the way that you deserve. Her protectors came to me with a newspaper story and I contacted some colleagues in Chicago to get more details of a murder. I gave those to the officers here."

"What is that to do with me? I haven't done anything I didn't murder anyone, I swear!" Maura frantically shook her glossy head with a look of complete mystification on her face.

"Maura," Heyes began gently. "See this newspaper? The Chicago Daily News? A woman called Rebecca Epstein has been arrested for murder in Chicago. They say she poisoned her lover."

Maura nodded but still looked puzzled. "I heard. Everyone in Chicago has heard of the Epsteins. They're as rich as Croesus."

Heyes smiled at her confusion. "Have you ever met any of them?"

She snorted. "No, of course not. I lived and worked in Bridgeport. They didn't mix with the likes of me. It's full of working people and immigrants."

Heyes continued. "Can you tell the inspectors what you do when someone wants to buy poison?"

"I record it in the poisons register. It's the law. It has the person's name, address and their signature. They also have to say why they want to buy it. Some states won't allow women to buy it unless they're accompanied but that's not the law in Illinois."

"Would you ever refuse to sell poison?" asked Heyes.

"Yes. Of course I would. We can't sell to people who are under age. I would also refuse to sell to someone who was drunk or who couldn't give a valid reason for needing to buy poison. The law is very clear."

She glanced up at the Kid who gave her an encouraging nod.

"So almost anyone can buy it. Philippe Michele Devereaux was poisoned by arsenic administered to him in soup. The woman who has been arrested claims that she is innocent and that the man was a fortune hunter who was secretly married. Her father has paid detectives to go to every pharmacy in Chicago in an attempt to clear her name. There is no record of her purchasing poison."

"Devereaux? I know that name," said Maura pensively. "There aren't many French names in Bridgeport. The people are mostly Irish, Italians or Polish. I definitely know that name. I had to get her to spell it."

"Spell it? Did you sell poison to anyone of that name?" asked Inspector Hewer.

"I did. Arsenic! To a woman. She had a French name but an American accent."

"Would you know that woman again."

Maura nodded decisively. "Yes. I remember her. She had a veil but I made her take it off. I won't sell poison to anyone who won't show their face. She stood out in my mind because I've never had to do that with anyone else and she was simply stunning; very lovely. She wanted it for hair removal."

"Huh?" the Kid looked shocked. "Arsenic?"

"Yes," confirmed Maura. "Apart from vermin control it's the main reason people buy it."

"Well, I never? Arsenic?"

"Would you recognize her again?" asked Heyes.

"Certainly, I'm sure of it. I have a very good memory. I can even describe the hat she wore, grey with a lavender veil and delicate trimmings. It complemented her coloring beautifully."

When was this?" asked the inspector as his colleague wrote furiously in his notebook.

"About three or four weeks before, oh! Just before all this started," she darted shocked eyes around the room. "You don't think..."

"The dark gentleman here made the connection," Manuel Vivanco cut in. "He came up with the theory that someone was trying to kill you because you could link them to a murder. You were the only person who could identify them and the signature in the poisons register was destroyed when your shop was so conveniently blown up. Get rid of you and they're home and dry."

The policeman nodded. "This could be very, very important Miss O'Shaughnessy. You could be responsible for getting the charges against Miss Epstein dropped. Evidence like this shows that Mr. Devereaux did have a wife after all. A veiled woman used to visit his lodgings regularly and Mr. Devereaux told his landlady that she was his wife. Your description matches the wife and the hat she wore." Inspector Hewer looked at his colleague. "You couple that with the fact that her father has managed to prove that Miss Epstein never bought any arsenic and it looks like you've prevented a very serious miscarriage of justice."

Maura shook her head in confusion. "Really? That's what this was all about?"

Heyes stood up and removed a file from the lawyer's desk and handed it to the inspectors. "Are you happy for me to show these to Miss O'Shaughnessy. I believe that one of them is the woman who bought the poison. I want to show you that Miss O'Shaughnessy can pick the woman out from a selection of pictures without any doubt about her identity."

Inspector Hewer looked down at the file and glanced through the pictures. "That sounds perfectly reasonable."

Maura looked down at six etchings on the desk before almost leaping eagerly on one. "That's her! Definitely."

"There's no doubt in your mind Miss O'Shaughnessy?" asked the lawyer.

"None. I'd know her anywhere."

"And you are prepared to sign a sworn declaration to that effect? I have to warn you that the declaration is made under the penalty of perjury. It's like taking an oath in a court of law."

"Certainly, but why would I have to do that?" she asked.

"Because once they have that there'll be no point in tryin' to kill you, darlin'," the Kid placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "They can still use that in court. In fact it'll be worse because they couldn't cross examine you and try to throw doubt on your testimony. They would just have to take your identification at face value."

"So I'd be safe at last?"

Twinkling blue eyes smiled at her. "Yes, Maura. That's why we brought you here."

oooOOOooo

Maura sat back and put the pen back in the inkwell as the ink on her detailed statement was gently blown dry by Manuel. "That's it? It's over? There's no reason to kill me anymore?" she asked, blinking in disbelief.

"I think that you'll be kept very safe Miss O'Shaughnessy," smiled inspector Hewer. "After all Mr. Epstein will want to make sure that you can clear his daughter. He has proven that she never bought any arsenic, that coupled with your testimony that Mrs. Devereaux bought arsenic and behaved suspiciously in your shop and he'll treat you like a queen. His daughter is famously the most important thing in his life."

"You never looked at the picture she chose, did you inspector?" asked Heyes casually.

"No, but the police in Chicago will be able to find her from your picture."

"This is it," he handed it over to the police officers.

"But..." inspector Hewer started to bluster. "This is Rebecca Epstein!"

"Yes, it sure is and Miss O'Shaughnessy didn't know that. She made it clear that she'd no idea what she looked like. She could only identify the woman who came into her shop and that woman was Rebecca Epstein trying to throw suspicion on to a fictitious wife. I'd a feeling it was her because of the resources behind all of this, so I slipped her picture in there."

"It had to be someone hugely wealthy to spread their tentacles that far afield. I think that you'll find that Mr. Epstein's Lawyers are Dexter, Wallingham and Buckingham and that they paid other law firms in Sacramento and other towns to find Miss O'Shaughnessy. The men who actually searched for her were told that she was a runaway wife," the Kid's eyes glittered dangerously. "That was a lie. She's never been married. Why not tell those men that she was a witness if there were no sinister motives?"

"Yup," grinned Heyes. "Epstein also proved that his daughter couldn't have bought the arsenic anywhere else. That's not what he intended but that's what he did."

"But what about the wife? The landlady saw the wife too?" demanded the detective.

"Miss Epstein and Devereaux were lovers, inspector. Extracts from his diaries in the newspapers prove that she was no innocent. The landlady was a respectable woman and wouldn't have let the woman into his room if they'd said that they were unmarried. I think it's telling that Miss O'Shaughnessy description of the woman in her shop matches the description of the woman claiming to be Mrs. Devereaux given by the landlady and other lodgers, even down to the color and styling of the veiled hat; and that is completely independent testimony. She had no way of knowing that."

Inspector Hewer stood up authoritively. "This is huge. I think that we'd better take this lady into protective custody."

The Kid pulled out his gun in a flash. "This lady ain't goin' anywhere she doesn't want to."

"Put that away," barked the lawyer.

Heyes drew his own weapon covering the room to back up his partner. "Sorry, Mr. Vivanco but we meant it when we said that we'd keep her hidden for her own sake. The law has already proven that they can't be trusted as far as she's concerned."

"We're not the same police force as the men who did that to her in Chicago. She'll be safe here in San Francisco."

"Yeah? She wasn't in another state in Bettyhill or Deadridge. That didn't stop attempts on her life."

"Gentlemen, please," Manuel noted the rising ire in the police officers. "There is no need for all of this and there can be no valid reason to take this lady into custody. Equally there can be no reason to draw your weapons on lawmen. Put them away right now!.

The Kid shook his head as his eyes glistened with obstinacy. "Nope, they had no interest in arrestin" her until they found out who she was accusin'," he tilted his head and looked at Maura. "What do you want to do? Go with them or us?"

"I don't want to go with them," Maura's eyes started to widen, alarmed at this glimpse of the feral side of the men she had grown to trust. "But, I don't want to go anywhere with armed men either. I'm going nowhere."

"I know Maura, but it's for your own good," Kid replied reassuringly. "We can't let them take you in."

She flicked up her eyebrows as tenacity hardened in her eyes. "That's not your choice! I will NOT be ordered around; by you or by anyone else." She turned to the lawyer. "Mr. Vivanco, what right do these men have to arrest me?"

The man's black eyes glittered with respect as he smiled at her. "None; absolutely none. You are willingly cooperating in an investigation. You are a witness, and a willing one at that."

"We're not talking about that. We're talking about protective custody. You said it yourself, there have been many attempts on her life and she is a material witness in one of the most high profile murder cases in the country. We have a duty to get her to court in safety to give evidence."

"Yes," retorted Maura. "But I'm now safe, you have a sworn declaration for your evidence and you represent the very people from whom I need protection. I'm not going with you and if you even try I will instruct Mr. Vivanco to take proceedings against you for...?" She groped around for guidance.

""False arrest," answered the lawyer, sitting back in his chair and folding his arms. "You have no grounds to detain this lady. None whatsoever."

"Yes," snapped Maura. "I'll also court publicity in the newspapers. That won't help the good name of the San Francisco Police Department."

Inspector Hewer shifted in his seat uncertainly before he spoke. "Fine, but if anything happens to her it'll be on your head."

Manuel Vivanco folded his arms. "Yes, but nothing is going to happen to her. I'll make sure of it, but if I were Mr. Epstein I would make sure that she was safe enough to face the witness box. I would try to discredit her identification. That's all he's got left, so I think she'll be just fine."

Maura glared at Heyes and Curry showing for the first time just how much quiet determination had carried her through her ordeal. "Put those guns away. I told you. I won't go anywhere with men who act like that."

The partners darted a look at one another before they slid their guns back into the holsters.

"Sorry, Miss O'Shaughnessy, gentlemen," Heyes muttered with a warning glint. "No harm done as long as we're all agreed that no one's forcing this lady to go anywhere."

"How could an ordinary woman hope to win against people that rich and powerful? She didn't stand a chance," murmured the Kid, shaking his head ruefully.

Heyes nodded. "Ruthless too; if it's a choice between his daughter or an innocent stranger, it's a foregone conclusion. Epstein will do whatever he has to."

"Well at least we know what she's up against and that's a whole lot better than fighting ghosts," Heyes smiled reassuringly at Maura. "Men that ruthless tend to have enemies, lots of them. Now, separately, they might feel quite impotent but the kind of publicity this story might generate can unite them and united they can provide the kind of strength that you'll will need to see this through. You'll have a lot of support, darlin'."

Kid nodded as his eyes burned with compassion. "Strength in numbers. You're right. Maura, you need to come out of hidin' and tell your story the whole world. I know you don't trust easily after all this, but you've got to. That's your protection."

oooOOOooo 

"So, that's it? It's finally over?" Maura asked incredulously as she stood in Silky's hallway on their return.

"Not yet, darlin'. The trial is goin' to be huge and it's bound to be stressful but Manuel will help see you through it."

She looked helplessly at Heyes and Curry. "I can't afford it. Lawyers are really expensive and I need what little money I have left to make a fresh start."

Heyes twinkled at her as he threw her a huge grin. "I really don't think you have to worry about that. Your story is going to make you a wealthy woman. In fact I think that you need a good lawyer to make sure that you get a good deal on the royalties."

"Really?" she gasped.

"Really." Heyes confirmed. "So I guess that's our cue to disappear, because the press will be gathering and we don't need the attention."

Kid nodded as he smiled gently. "Neither does Silky, so Manuel is on his way to take you to his house. He's got a real big family, so I hope that you like children."

She grinned. "I love them. Normality, noise, laughter, mess; a houseful of life! It's more than I could have dreamt of even a few days ago. How can I ever thank you?"

The partners darted a look at one another before Heyes arched hopeful eyebrows. "Well, you could pay us? You did offer us five dollars a day."

"Oh, I forgot!" she blushed in embarrassment. "I haven't got any cash. We didn't go to the bank."

The Kid's blue eyes slid sideways as he fixed Heyes with a smile of resignation. It seemed that fate had decreed that the only way that people would hand over money was at gunpoint or at the poker table.

"You mean that you're going to back out of a deal with Kid Curry and Hannibal Heyes? Is that wise, Miss O'Shaughnessy?" Heyes tilted his head as a mischievous lights danced in his keen eyes.

She gave a gentle laugh. "Call it a debt. I'll find a way of getting it to you. I promise."

Heyes bent and gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek and strode over to the door. "We need to get off. The word is spreading and we don't want curious journalists on our tails."

Kid nodded, throwing Heyes a look, waiting for him to walk outside before he paused. "Well Maura, this is goodbye."

She smiled. "Yes. Thank you. I owe you so much, Mr. Curry."

He looked deeply into eyes as blue as his own before he took her face in both hands and tilted her face up to his.

"Stick with Manuel. He's a good man and he'll make sure that you're looked after. Whatever you do don't go back to Chicago except for the trial. Men like Epstein have long memories and when his daughter is convicted he'll be real angry. You'll be safer here."

"But my family…"

"Bring them here, darlin', or move on completely. Start a new life, but whatever you do, stay out of Chicago." He dropped his head and kissed her gently on the lips before he pulled back to gaze at her.

Her pupils dilated against the clear blue irises as she looked up at him. "I can't believe that I was ever afraid of you. Your eyes are so kind," she whispered.

He slipped a hand behind her head and pulled her to him, into a firmer embrace, as he tenderly captured her mouth before he stepped back with a sigh. "Goodbye, Maura O'Shaughnessy. Take care of yourself and live a good life."

"Will I ever see you again?"

He shook his head. "Not unless I have to come after you," he gave a roguish laugh. "You do owe me money after all."

"I always pay my debts Mr. Curry, I told you. I'll get the money to you."

He walked over to the door and turned, giving her a playful twinkle. "Make sure you do, Maura. After all, you don't want me to have to come get it, do you?"

She smiled, and it struck him for the first time that the stress had fallen from her pretty face, leaving warm serenity in its place.

"Don't I, Mr. Curry?" her slim eyebrows arched provocatively as her voice bubbled with humor. "Just what would you do?"

**Historical Notes**

**The first female pharmacist **in the US was Elizabeth Marshall, who took took over her grandfather's business in1805 after serving an apprenticeship. There was a move to differentiate between pharmacists (who understood chemistry and studied science) and dispensing apothecaries who were based more in the tradition of herbalists. Other sources name Susan Hayhurst as the first as she passed the examinations set by Philadelphia College of Pharmacy in 1883 when consistent training, examination and registration became legally obliged throughout the US, varying state by state.

They were highly trained and the sciences were embraced, as were the pharmacopeia and the fundamentals of herbalism. A few women had an initial struggle to be recognized but objections were quickly quashed by the registering authorities who asserted that ability should be the only criteria. Over the counter medications were all most people could afford, but with drugs of all kinds being sold without prescription the competency of the pharmacist was life saving and could be obtained without the expense of seeing a doctor. They also made toiletries, cosmetics, perfumes and medical appliances.

Women had a similar reception in the UK and my own great-great-great-great grandmother was the first female pharmacist in Scotland, opening a shop with her husband in Oban in the 18880's.

The back story is based upon the trial of **Madeleine Smith**, a Scottish socialite who stood trial for murder accused of poisoning her lover Pierre Emile L"Angelier in 1857 to marry a rich, respectable suitor. Her father used all his connections and courted what would now be called "spin" in the press to help her. She had lost her virginity to a man who was besotted with her but whom she clearly did not consider marriage material and that, scandalously for the times, she had pursued him and both initiated and enjoyed a sexual relationship. Controversially, evidence from witnesses who saw her with the deceased before the murder and the evidence from the murdered man's own diaries were excluded and the jury concluded that she lacked the opportunity to commit the crime as they could not link her to the murdered man on the three dates on which he was poisoned, dates which were excluded from evidence.

She was not acquitted. The verdict of "Not Proven" was given (Scotland is the only country in the world to have three verdicts). The verdict means that the accused could walk free but that basically, there is enough evidence to prove guilt, but not beyond all reasonable doubt. Criminologists generally agree that that she would have hanged if the evidence had been available to the jury and there is much speculation over whether a poor woman would have had the evidence excluded.

The only emotion she is reported to have shown over the whole affair was anger at not getting acquitted.

The scandal followed her and she changed her name to Lena and married a painter called Wardle and became part of what was known as the "Bloomsbury Set" in London, living a wealthy, charmed life. Speculation surfaced again in the press again in the 1890s, causing her to emigrate to America after her husband went off to stay with in-laws, reportedly fearing for his own safety after an argument. He later went to Naples whilst she moved to New York, shaving twenty two years off her age in the official documents.

She married William Sheehy, who was twenty five years her junior. She died in her nineties, but her documented age was sixty two. Her descendents still live in Maine and Connecticut. 


End file.
